


i will stand by you - so why let your voice be tamed?

by ZeeThorn



Series: I Will Stand By You [1]
Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anorexia, Body Worship, Bottom Zayn, Crying, Cutting, Depression, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Physical/Psychological Abuse, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gay Love, Gay Sex, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, I promise, Injury Recovery, Insecurity, Love, M/M, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Miscarriage, Mpreg, Muteness, Nightmares, Past Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Please read, Pregnancy, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con - Freeform, Recovery, Smut, Suicide Attempt, Tears, Therapy, These tags look really dark and it is but only the first half, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Top Liam, happy ending I promise, i'm getting carried away with these tags, lots and lots of crying, making loooove, then everyone is happy, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-19 00:46:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 23
Words: 105,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3589977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeeThorn/pseuds/ZeeThorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Liam and Zayn have been best friends since forever & when Zayn suddenly starts disappearing Liam has to do something about it. </p><p>Or. </p><p>The one where Zayn is in an abusive relationship and Liam is there when he needs him to be. </p><p>------</p><p>i suck at summaries, I'm sorry. </p><p>WARNING: SERIOUS TRIGGERS, MENTIONS AND OCCURRENCES OF DEPRESSION, EATING DISORDERS, ABUSE (INCLUDING SEXUAL), SUICIDAL THOUGHTS AND ATTEMPTS, MISCARRIAGE, ETC. DO NOT READ IF UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THAT.</p><p>Please note i cannot guarantee a update schedule. I'll update when i can.<br/>Also: Do not move from here, i do not want this copied anywhere without my permission, however feel free to link. I've worked a lot on this and it's been on my mind for a while so i hope you enjoy.</p><p>Extra note: Constructive criticism welcome, however if you do not like do not read/send hate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is the beginning of my first story. I hope you enjoy.

**Prologue**

 

**Z A Y N**

 

The clink of chain holding his wrists above his head tinkle with movement. Only to be violently shook every few seconds as his body lurches forward with each strike from the belt on his back. The darkened space that is their bedroom lets moonlight shine through in an ominous fashion. It scares Zayn, this place, it scares him so much. A seventh strike to his back cracks and he lets out a sob – muted by the gag in his mouth.

It was his fault this was happening, it was always his fault and he deserved it, he needed it. He’d left it nearly too late to file something for Nathan's work, left too late in the car and got stuck for too long on the way there.

_He was rushing. Nathan had called him not long ago demanding Zayn bring paperwork that he’d forgotten this morning to his office, now. It was taking forever, the traffic lights seemingly played cruel tricks with him as if they knew ~ they knew ~ what would happen if he didn’t get this to him on time. He ran as fast as one could with his injuries into his boyfriend’s workplace shaking with dread as to his timing. As expected, the older man was waiting with his arms crossed over his chest and feet shoulder width apart, looking down his nose at Zayn, two minutes before his meeting. “Supper better be ready by the time I’m home.” He was warned, with a hand around the back of his neck, squeezing as if Zayn dared argue with him. A quick nod of the head saw his dismissal and he trudged back to his car. Nearly shaking because dear god, if he had been two minutes later, he’d be so dead._

_So dead._

The tenth blow lands on his back and he can feel the bruises forming and small blots of blood trickling down to the backs of his legs. He’s surprised that Nathan stops there, because normally he’d get so many more, but he’s undoing the climbing clip that attaches the chains around his wrist to the length dangling down from the ceiling. He’s been forced, stretched, up onto his tiptoes the entire time and therefore loses his balance when he’s undone. Nathan kicks him to the ground and he falls face first, landing on his elbows on the hardwood floor with a ‘mrrph!’

Nathan rips him from his resting place on his elbows and pushes his wrists as far as they will go. He can feel his face being pushed into the floor more, and if this goes on any longer his nose may just break again. The padlock holding his wrists together is undone, but then Nathans sitting on his shoulder blades, keeping him immobile as he just re-wraps the chain length around his wrists and hears the mind-fucking ‘click’ of the lock. This time Nathan has bound his wrists behind his back. His shoulders are on fire and he swears they may dislocate at any moment.But then all weight is off him and his heavy arms drop to the small of his back. He is naked and cold and in pain but he can’t do anything about it.

A sickening coo comes from behind him when Nathan shackles a collar onto him, buckling it up and tugging on the chain harshly, yanking Zayn’s head back. He yanks on it again with enough power to pull him half up onto his knees and wraps another length of chain around his waist, using a second lock to tightly secure it around him and attach his wrists down. A third is shoved under him again but this time it goes around his chest and upper arms. Wrapping around him once, twice, thrice. He can hear another lock click him in place and feel the excess chain trail down his spine to attach with his wrists. He is fully incapable of any escape now and he whimpers. He doesn’t like this, not one bit at all. He hates this and he hates himself and please- _just stop!_

Everything goes silent for a bit, and the tension is eating at him. He turns his head and tries to ask Nathan, please stop, Nathan! A low moan comes from above him and he squirms in discomfort. "You’re a good boy aren't you?" A hand is now on his hip, squeezing with punishing force. He tries to mumble out the same thing he does every night and lets out a small sob. A muffled ” _please don't._ "

There’s a tug of collar that nearly cuts off his breathing. "You're my little bitch aren't you?" And Zayn knows he has no choice but to nod. Fresh tears spill down his face.  
"Up on your knees." He shuffles forward. His back painful and knees weak from working on them the majority of the day. A smack lands on him and he yelps. But then Nathan slams into him, with no prep and no lube and it takes everything for him to not scream.

His body is propelled forward in violent thrusts, the skin of his thighs are burning and his near emaciated body can't cope with this. He's forced to the floor again where Nathan just goes harder. Pants and _uh uh uh_ falls from his lips and Zayn turns to face the floor. Squeezing his eyes shut and waiting for it to be over.

It's over not long after that. Nathan always came a little embarrassingly quick but he makes no move to remove himself from Zayn’s tortured body. When he does through Zayn can feel the blood and semen trickling down the backs of his thighs.  
"Never do that again Zayn. Do you hear me?" Nathans voice is threatening. At first Zayn can only nod with the gag still in his mouth but then Nathan's removed it and expecting an answer. "N-never. I'm so-sorry."

Nathan pats his head, in the way a dog owner might for their trained pup and it makes Zayn feel sick. He feels the locks give way. But Nathan makes no move to unwrap the chain. Instead he puts the key down and leaves Zayn to unravel, and then put it all in the box.

The Box. The box that contained extortionate amounts of rope, chain, locks with keys, a cock ring and other devices. It's the box filled with things to satisfy Nathan's fetishes and methods for punishment. Zayn hates the box. Zayn hates a lot of things beside the box. Himself, most of all. He's such a fucking mess, swears by it and deserves everything that Nathan does to him.

He's been with Nathan for what now? Year and a half? Two years? Something like that.

He got off the hook tonight. He was lucky with how Nathan dealt with him. He aches and there’s literally a pain in his ass that spreads up his back and blood trickles down his thighs. He’s itching for his razor and the bathroom, it never matters how much pain he’s in, he needs it and he needs it now.

The front door slams shut and Zayn knows that means Nathan’s going out drinking again tonight. He limps from their bedroom to the bathroom, grabbing a pair of boxers on the way and it’s a pitiful sight when he gets there. He stares at the figure in the mirror.

Thin, short, dry black hair falling limp across his forehead or stuck up in a random place. The thick shoulders and thicker thighs screamed disgusting at him, his pudgy stomach and ‘man-boobs’ wobbled as he took another step towards the mirror.

He drops his boxers and collapses in front of the toilet bowl, crying as he sticks his fingers down his throat and bringing up the three sections of apple he had earlier today. The acid burns his throat and spews out, and he keeps doing this until his stomach is clenching painfully, trying to expel nothing. So he stands up and chugs down a glass of water from the sink, he all ready feels full and disgusted with himself, before he even bends over the toilet again and just bring it up. Bile flushes from his throat and it kills. But he keeps doing it until he’s just gagging again and a sobbing mess collapsing next to the toilet.

That’s when he reaches for the set of white wicker draws under the sink. He doesn’t have much in the drawer he pulls out. One toothbrush, a few intact razors and several blades. He picks up one, its not a particular one, just shiny, gleaming in the dim bathroom light. It tells him pick me up pick me up, it’s enticing, inviting him to use it, and he does. He leans back against the wall and brings it to his arm. Making a long, drawn on and messy cut into the skin. He leans his head back and lets himself relish in the feeling. He does it again, and again, and again.

He loses track of the number of cuts he makes. But he stops because he doesn’t do this to scar himself, he does this to himself to punish and forget. That’s when he moves onto his thighs. It looks like he hasn’t paid attention to his left thigh in a while, and so he drags the blade leisurely over the skin there. A small, bliss-out smile graces his face and he lets his head fall back again. He does it a few more times, but then he stops, because he’s getting dizzy and needs to stop. He drops the bloodied blade in the drawer, shutting it gently and unravels some loo roll to dab at the fresh cuts. They stick and the loo roll soaks up the blood in no time before they do that thing where they stitch themselves up again.

He sits there a while longer, to let them settle and then wraps a small bit of gauze around the two areas. Sticking it down with a plaster. He pushes himself up off the floor and grabs his boxers while he’s at it. Pulling them on with a grimace because ow that hurts. He trudges to the bedroom and pulls on his pyjamas, a simple long sleeved tee and long sleeved bottoms before climbing into bed.

He falls asleep, because this time is precious. At this point in time he’s safe.

Three hours later, Nathan comes stumbling in again, drunk as hell, and climbs in behind him, which makes Zayn wake up. He shifts in position when Nathan pulls him in for a bone-crushing hug and slurs out “I’m sorry, but it’s just cause I love you.” And Zayn nods; blinking the sleep out his eyes and tells him “I know. I love you too.” But Nathans already passed out and the grip he has on Zayn is suffocating him. He doesn’t go to sleep again because he knows he’ll get hurt even more if he moves or breathes too heavy.

But this is a normal night for them; Zayn never sleeps with Nathan around, instead. He focuses on the tasks he has to do the next day and the deadline to do them by.


	2. Part I: The Beginning Of The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soo... chapter one.

**Z A Y N**

He wakes up in a white room to the constant sound of beeping. His head hurts, his legs hurt, his arms hurt, his back hurts; everything hurts.

He squints now, looking around the room trying to figure out what’s going on.

He’s in a hospital room.

And just like that all the air _whooshes_ from his lungs and he starts to shake. Oh god, what has Nathan done now? He looks at the bandages covering his arms and notices the IV in his right. He rips it out pushing the covers from him to reveal a mostly bandaged chest and pyjamas bottoms, he doesn’t care about the hurt as he sits up. He can’t be here.

A nurse comes rushing in and he screams. She doesn’t appear menacing or, in any way dangerous, but she’s approaching him and he has no idea where the fuck he is or what these people want from him. He clambers off the right side of the bed before she can reach him, nearly collapsing in the process. When she makes to touch him he screams again _don’t touch me, please!_ He sobs, clutching at his battered body, especially his ribs as he backs away into the corner away from the startled nurse whose now trying to talk to him gently. He feels cornered, cornered and scared. He’s used to this position by now though, only with an ominous figure looming over him with unmerciful fists.  
More doctors’ rush in and he slides down the wall, shaking and curling up into a ball, his hands on his head and knees up to his chest. He’s hyperventilating, and he rocks back and forth on his heels. He can’t process what’s happening but he knows he wants off when a doctor that he’s seen somewhere before approaches him with a syringe.

He kicks out, _please, stop!_ A wretched sob leaves him and he knows he’s a mess. He can't stop it though, he can't fucking breathe and they're coming closer. That  _syringe_ is getting closer and oh fuck, oh fuck what did he do this time?

Suddenly, a ray of hope breaks through the wall of anxiety when a man steps through the doctors, getting to Zayn before the man with the syringe can. Zayn recognises Liam, remembers what happened – what, last night? Liam comes rushing forward and envelopes the emaciated man into his arms.

_It all comes rushing back, the yelling, the punches, the beating, kicking and spitting. Zayn remembers having not gotten everything cleaned up before serving supper and he remembers his head being shoved over the sink and fingers that weren't his own triggering his gag reflex, only to bring up bile because he’d already purged that day. The acid stung so bad and he dry wretched over the porcelain bowl but the fingers were forcing down his throat again and he bit them as a reflex. He remembers getting thrown to the ground and kicked over and over again. He remembers getting picked up by the throat and getting tossed into the living room where he was socked in the face, then his already unstable ribcage and stomach. He remembers being shoved against the wall with a hand around his throat and he remembers a door breaking open. He remembers air rushing back and a dizzy account of someone wrestling his boyfriend off him._

_He recognizes and remembers Liam, and /No! He can’t have Liam involved in his shit!/ He springs to his feet the best he can, screaming for the to just stop with tears streaming down his face. His voice cracking from the acid burning and he remembers Liam shoving Nathan far enough away to hold Zayn close and check up on him, delicately holding and caressing his face, asking /Zayn? Zayn?/ But he remembers Nathan getting back up, yanking Liam back by his collar and sirens sounding in the distance. He remembers something connecting with the back of his head as he was thrown like a rag doll down to the floor – the coffee table maybe? But it’s all a daze after that everything’s spinning and all he can hear are the voices in his head and another in the distance saying /hold on Zayn, just hold on./_

Zayn clutches to him as if he were drowning and Liam was his rock, which, he kind of is. Zayn sobs into Liam’s shoulder, biting down when the syringe doctor re-approaches him to muffle his scream. Another one stops him though and Zayn brings his arms into his chest to cover himself up while Liam encompasses him within his grasp. He’s still shaking, but Liam’s talking to him, and they’re breathing together. Zayn feels himself calm down and he sees another three faces he recognizes, they’re different and look distraught for some unknown to him reason. Louis is talking to the nurse that first came in and Niall and Harry are persuading doctors to leave because _can you not see you’re all terrifying him?_

But Zayn doesn’t hear that. He doesn’t hear any of that. Instead he hears Liam, Liam is telling him “It’s ok,” and “Just breathe,” “I’ve got you,” “you’re safe now.” And Zayn maybe doesn’t believe all of it, but he’s with Liam, and Liam has always done right by him.

All the doctors bar the nurse and another woman that walks in leave, and Liam is rubbing his back as he calms down, feeling even more drained and in pain than before. Liam’s hushing him, gently, and he’s feeling better, more relaxed. But he knows he can’t drop off. He’s in a hospital and he knows what’ll happen if he does that. He’s experienced what will happen. He then realizes that he’s made a mistake, letting his emotions get to him and letting himself panic. Fuck, they know how messed up he is now and they know what he does to himself and he knows he’s going to get slammed into some lunatic asylum and he doesn’t even realize how labored his breaths are becoming again until Liam pulls him forward so he can kick his legs out, cross them and cuddle him closer, playing with his hair and stroking his back in a way that comforts him so much and is exactly what he needs right then.

“I’m sorry.” He hears Liam say, but Zayn doesn’t understand why and before he can ask why Liam continues. ”I’m sorry for what you’ve gone through, and that we let it get so far. I’m sorry we weren’t there for you to help you out and I’m so, so sorry that I was there too late.” Zayn shakes his head, not quite trusting his voice at the moment. “I’m sorry you’ve started doing this to yourself and I’m sorry for how scared you must be at the moment, but we’re here now, and you’re safe, and we’re never going to let anything else happen to you.” Zayn opens his eyes to see the other three sitting with the two women. He hides his face in the crook of Liam’s neck.

“Its not your fault.” He whispers. So quiet even he’s not sure he said it.

“Not yours either.” Liam responds, but Zayn curls up even smaller than before to nod, because it is, it _always_ is.

“He-he’s just trying to h-help me, I’m a bit too m-m-mu-much to handle.” He confesses. Liam’s holding onto him so tight now, but it’s a good tight, and the hand in his hair supports the back of his head as he says “Oh Zayn.”

Zayn knows though, he _knows_ – as _stupid as he is_ – that it is _all_ his fault, that he deserves _everything_ and its only a matter of time before everybody else gets past the initial pity phase to see _actually, yeah, Zayn Malik, you are a messed up worthless piece of shit._

Liam rocks them back and forth, “Oh Zayn,” he repeats. “Zayn, he’s not helping you. He’s hurting you. You must be able to see that. It’s to the point where you’re hurting yourself, you’re _starving_ yourself – you know that doesn’t happen when someone loves you, right Zayn?”

Zayn can’t find it in himself to answer, he just buries impossibly closer into the warmth and comfort Liam is providing in the now cold room. A furry jacket is gently draped over him, and he looks up to see Harry. The curly haired boy has red-rimmed eyes and a look Zayn can’t quite pinpoint. He shivers at the last wave of cold before the oversized jacket is warming him and Harry leans forward to kiss the top of Zayn’s head.

He’s not quite sure how to react to that, so he averts his gaze and stutters out a weak ‘th-thank you’.

The lady – not the nurse – gently pads over to him and crouches before him, sitting on her hunches, which makes Zayn immediately tense up. Liam notices and shifts their position again so Zayn is sitting sideways on his lap and his chin is resting on Zayn’s head and his back is against the wall. He holds him closer because while he knows this woman, he’s only met her once and only briefly before Zayn’s monitor in reception beeped like crazy before stopping completely. Causing himself, the boys and several doctors to rush into room 072.

“Hi Zayn,” She starts off softly. “My names Harriet and I’m a social worker.” She introduces herself. He just stares back at her, not quiet sure of anything at the moment. Harriet continues, “I’ve been assigned your case.” As if she needed to explain her presence.

Zayn shifts uncomfortably; this cannot be happening right now. Nathan is going to be so mad when he gets home. Zayn shakes his head “n-no.” His knees are up to his chest with his arms around them. He moves his gaze to anywhere but where this woman, Harriet, is staring at him. “I-it’s nothing.” He stutters out, “I-I,” he searched desperately for an excuse, “I j-just fell down, down the st-stairs.”  
Harriet looks at him with a pitiful expression. He turns his face into Liam’s chest, muttering out a feeble “I-I’m fine.”

“Zayn, a fall down the stairs doesn’t cause the injuries you have.” He sneaks a small glance at her and bites his lip. He’s weak, he’s pathetic, cant even speak properly to form a better argument.

“He-he’s gonna be mad if-if you-“

“He can’t do anything right now.” Liam cuts him off gently. Twisting his short black hair that had just finished growing back.

_(Nathan had shaved it all off last year after one of the trips Nathan came with Zayn to the supermarket – the only time he’s allowed to leave the house. They had run across one of the boys, Louis, Zayn seems to remember and Nathan accused Zayn of flirting with him. As a result, he was unloading their purchases in the kitchen when his t-shirt was ripped over his head and his hands were grabbed behind him and tied with rope. He was shoved into the bathroom and didn’t even bother to put up a fight as he was pushed to his knees. He knew it was futile, and watched as the black locks he was actually extremely fond of were buzzed off into the water in the toilet bowl below. He then remembers being collared and dragged to their bedroom where Nathan blindfolded him, removing his jeans and flogging him before making Zayn take his dick. Swallowing him down and then tying him so he was on his knees with his head bowed and hands were painfully raised behind him; elbows and upper arms knotted together and ankles bound with more rope connecting his wrists and ankles together, throwing him off balance and torturing him thighs and arms. He left him like that for a long time. Enough that he was begging to be let go and gasping “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” when Nathan came back in.)_

“-And I wouldn’t let him anyway.” Zayn’s cut off from memories of the past but before he can respond, warn them that _yes, he will._ Harriet tells him  
“Nathan’s been arrested Zayn. He was caught abusing you and we have accounts of your injuries, new and old. He can’t ever hurt you again.”

Zayn loses his breath a little and there’s a lump in his throat that is persistent on staying there. He’s trying to say something but it comes out as a chocked-up messy sob. He feels relieved, almost, and Liam’s there hushing him again, rocking and stroking his hair and holding him close as he sobs.He’s so scared and yet he’s so ok with this. He shouldn’t be, and he’s going to get it later but at the moment he’s ok. Liam’s here, Liam’s always been here and the boys are too. Even after so long and he doesn’t know how to cope at the moment so he just sobs.

He hears an Irish voice say _there ye go, let it all out_ , and more hands are rubbing circles on his back, or rubbing gently the outside of his thigh; because they all know what’s there, what hatred and self-loathing has gone into the marks that reside on the black-haired boys thighs and arms. What self-denial he has endured to see his ribs and what torture his mind and body has gone through this past year and a bit.

And they know Zayn may never be the same again.

 

\------

 

He cannot move when he wakes up and that panics him. The last thing he remembers is the police interviewing him in his account of what happened, and all that came out was a shaky stuttering mess. He fell asleep from pure exhaustion just after and he’s never regretted anything more in his worthless life. He looks around the room to see he’s alone; it’s a different room. White, clean.

His worst nightmare.

He looks down at his body and notices the soft cuffs around his ankles and wrists holding him to the bed, he gives an experimental tug and no, they’re not letting him go anywhere. He tries to suck in a breath. Calm down a little bit but there’s one around his waist too and he cannot breathe.

 _Nathan warned you about this._ His mind screams. _You’re a fucking psycho and you’ll never be able to leave._

He lets out a sob, heart wrenching and sob of utter defeat and sadness. He’s panicking again, the anxiety is getting to him and he cannot breathe again. His eyes screw shut and tears leak from his eyes. The voice in his head screams out how much he _deserves this_ and _bought it on himself_ because _he’s so fucking fucked up._

He’s sobbing so much he doesn’t notice the door open and shut. One of the doctors from earlier peers in, the one who tried to sedate him and watches Zayn spontaneously try to fight the restraints. He snaps a picture on his phone.

Zayn screams. _Where is Liam? He needs Liam, he needs somebody, just fucking_ \- the breaths are heavier and he notices the doctor from earlier standing above him. _“P-please!”_ He sobs out, _“I-I won’t do a-anything bad ag-again!_ ” He’s a mess and notices the doctor’s phone trained on him. He cannot believe this, he recognises the man and that raises his panic levels even more.

-

_Nathan coos when he fights to get the mitts off his hands. Actually coos as he panics because his hands are trapped and padlocked into these black leather things. His fists are curled inside them and he shakes with fear. They have different hooks and rings on them which only mean one thing to Zayn, extra restriction; more restraint and even less power. But then he realizes Nathans got another idea, he’s not tying his hands together. Instead he’s putting something around his head at his neck. He tries to claw it off but he can’t because of the mitts._

_He’s literally wearing a dog cone._

_He feels suffocated, enclosed, trapped. He feels like he cant breath and he just wants it off, but he just can’t and Nathan laughs at him “Oh baby.” He fake coos, “Does my little one not enjoy his new cone?”_  
_Zayn shakes his head, sobbing, “N-no, ple-please take it off.”_  
_Nathan hums, “That’s a shame it looks so good on you.” Zayn shakes his head, sobbing more “please n-no take it o-off, anything b-but th-this.”_

_“Anything?” Nathan asks and Zayn knows that literally means anything but he cannot deal with this right now; he cannot deal with being treated like a dog and nods. He needs it off._

_Nathan hums; “Really?” a hand gently strokes his chin in thought “anything?”_  
_“Yes!” Zayn all but shrieks, “P-p-please!”_  
_Nathan smirks down at him. “Oh this will be great.”_

_Zayn doesn’t hear that though, he’s busy sucking in huge gulps of air and wiping his face with his now freed hands, sobbing with relief._

_That is until three hours later when he’s being pounded into by one of Nathans friends, each of his mates having a go with his boyfriend while he’s tied down and ball gagged. They play with him and touch him. Land hits on him for their sick pleasure, and then they suspend him. His hands behind his back and legs bought in up to his backside; his lower shins and thighs are tied together, which re-opens his cuts, and makes him scream out._

_They laugh, his upper arms are circled with rope and then tied to his body, a knot in the middle of his back before the same happens with above his elbows and then his wrists, which a attached to the central knot. Every limb is tied down and secure and no matter how much he struggles he cannot get free; an extortionate amount of rope is used to hold him together and hold him up._  
_Mutterings of ‘heavy bastard’ and 'bitch' echo around him. Which he knows ok? He knows he’s a fat, disgusting idiot. Of course he’ll be heavy._  
_But he’s also completely immobilised and one of them push their dick on his mouth, commanding him to blow and another slams into him from behind without warning. He shrieks around the dick in his mouth but the guy just pushes in deeper making him choke and cough. He pulls out and pushes in again immediately, grabbing his hair and yanking it with a “Take my dick bitch or there’ll be consequences.”_

_When they're done with him, they don’t take him down. He’s left there, Nathan comes back a few hours later and he wriggles a bit to show he wants to be put down, but Nathan smirks and just watched him struggle, “Moan for me, Zayn, moan for daddy.” He feels disgusted with himself but he does it, he moans and struggles in his bindings and Nathan jacks off too it._

-

He recognises the doctor, he’s one of Nathans friends and he’s desperately trying to push himself away, but he can’t because he is attached to the god-dman bed and he can’t go anywhere.

“Pl-please please _stop!_ ” He shrieks. The man lowers his phone and leans towards Zayn on the bed, his lips to his collarbone and he feels a hand trail down his stomach towards his pyjama bottoms.

Zayn cannot get any words out now, all it is now is racking sobs and huge in takes of air. Laboured breathing and sobs of incoherent ‘ _please please stop_ ’. He then hears a door slam open and flinches violently, trying to fight, doing anything to free himself. The doctor is pulled off him, and he can see someone through the blurry vision of his tears above him. He fights even more – crying out nothing but a garbled mess.

His right wrist is freed and he pushes himself up the bed, when his ankles are unlocked and left wrist is undone he launches up it, hands and legs fleeing to curl up into the fetal position. He still cannot breathe, someone’s cupping his face, wiping away the tears but more steadfastly replace them. This person is calling his name, telling him to _breathe_ and _I’m so sorry. It’s over; we’re not leaving you ever again._

When his vision clears somewhat he can make out Liam’s face, and immediately launches himself at him, wrapping his arms around his neck and face into his neck. Sobbing everything out. Letting out the occasional scream of terror and reminding himself to breathe. Liam’s hand is smoothing his back again, and the hand is in his hair. He hears Liam talking, saying something along the lines of _went home for a shower, getting you some clothes, came back and you weren’t there. Boys called in at work_ , and it takes him a while to process it.

Harriet stands in the doorway and a wheelchair is bought in to take him back to his actual room, on the other side of the hospital. But he refuses to let go of Liam. Screaming whenever someone else lays a hand on him, so Liam places a hand on the small of Zayn’s back, pulling him in and then on the back of his thighs so Zayn can wrap his legs around his waist. Liam holds him close and he doesn’t even care that people stare at him. His sobs die down and he’s only shaking a little as Liam carries him slowly through the hospital. He’s playing with his hair because that seems to calm him down a little and a hand runs up and down his spine. He’s only sniffing and shivering when they reach their destination. Liam goes to lay him down but Zayn cannot let go. If he lets go he will panic, if he cannot feel Liam’s arms wrapped around him, holding him, he will lose it. He doesn’t mean to be this dependent or clingy, but right now he cannot deal with it and needs to be held by Liam.

Liam seems to understand him because Liam always seems to understand him, and when Zayn doesn’t let go. He kisses his temple and stands back up again so he can turn around and lie on his back on the bed himself, Zayn untangles his legs and pulls his hands into his chest when Liam shuffles up so Zayn’s head is on his chest and he’s lying between his legs. It’s actually very comfortable now, and then someone’s draped a blanket over them and Liam’s still playing with his hair.

“Try get some rest Zayn.” Liam suggests but Zayn shakes his head. He tries to speak but he cannot get out the words, he literally chokes on them and cannot seem to work his voice. He starts sobbing again and they let him. He seems to do a lot of that lately. He hates himself, curses himself for being so weak, so pathetic. He tries again because _c’mon Zayn!_ But his mouth only seems to open and close and he can only muster a squeak.

"Shush, shush." He hears Liam say. "its ok, its all going to be ookaayyy."

They're there like that for a long time. Liam does something with his phone and keeps talking to him, like that will help. He tells him that he's sorry and that he just texted the boys to let them know what happened. When a reply comes he tells them what it says and that the boys will be here asap. He tells him that he's called his mum; Zayn hides his face even more in shame, and tells him that they're on their way.

Zayn himself doesn't utter a word, he literally cannot now. It's like theres a block on his vocal chords, some irrepressible weight on them that impacts his ability to talk. It makes him feel even more of a failure than before and he  _hates himself._ He just wants to die. Or at least lock himself in a room and cut until he sleeps and sleeps for eternity. 

The issue about his weight hits him then.  _How could he have been so stupid?_ Crushing Liam under him. He moves to push away from the comfort and warmth of Liams chest, but a gentle hand on his back presses down and his arms give out from under him.

_Weakling._

"Hey, Zayn. Don't move, ok? Just stay there if you're comfy? Alright. I know you feel comfortable there."

It's not some patronising or childlike tone. But  _of course_  Liam would sacrifice himself for Zayn's benefit, of course he'd take the weight of Zayns body because he's an angel.  
Zayn pushes up again but theres a hand on the back of his head applying pressure which makes him cry out; thats where it was hit when he was with Nathan last. 

"Oh, god, sorry about that Zayn. But please don't push up. You're not heavy at all, ok? You're really light and its nothing at all."

He looks up at Liam, with what must be the face of utter betrayal and despair; _how can you say that?_   He thinks _can you not see the fat, ugly piece of shit i am?_  Liam continues."Zayn, you can't see it but you're emaciated. You're like a skeleton love."

Zayn shakes his head into Liams sternum.  _No._

"You are. But that's ok, alright, we're all here now and we're going to help you out. I promise you, you're gonna be ok."

Zayn huffs and cries. He's  _not ok? Please don't tell him anything like that. Just no._  

At that moment he hears the door fly open and someone panting. It's Zayns immediate reaction to fly up off Liam and get as far away as possible, because, oh god Nathan.

But before he can do that, Liams holding him close, not letting him spring up and fly off. Proving the person he thought could be Nathan is actually Louis who pants out. "Where is he? Is he ok?"

Zayns breathing now calms down. _If Nathan saw him lying onto another man like right now..._ Louis moves around the bed to crouch down by his side, his right hand reaching for his left. He doesnt put up a fight as Louis holds it. "I am so sorry, mate, none of us meant to leave you but we all got called in and Liam wasn't here, and we were working as fast as we could, or trying to convince our boss to let one of us leave and two others would take up his paperwork but they wouldn't let us." He stops for breath. "I am so so sorry Zayn, never again, even if it means i'm fired, never again."

He feels his eyes welling up, why would Louis say that? It's not his fault, he doesn't owe him anything. Why would he think he needed to come at all?

Liam kisses the top of his head, and he really likes that. But he won't let himself enjoy it for long because that means attachment. "He's finding it a little hard to speak right now." Liam whispers. Talking for him. He shifts his head to face the other side, burning with shame. A hand trails up and down his spine gently, it's soothing but he tenses up at random intervals because of the touch. It's so soft and so nice and so _foreign_ , is the thing.

"Is this ok?" Liam asks him, the hand trailing stops. Only beginning again when he nods. "Zayn, if anything we do bothers you from now on, please tell us somehow, we want you to be comfortable."

He nods for the sake of it, so Liam won't say or for some reason worry about him. Liam should never worry on his behalf. None of them should, he's not worth it in the long-run.

"Try get some sleep Zayn," Louis tries, but he's shaking his head furiously again.  _No. No sleep._ He's gone days without sleep before, he can do it now. 

A kiss is pressed to the side of his head by Louis when he stands. "Ok then, but just rest. You need it."

He nods again, just so Louis will sit down again. Leave him alone to wallow in the self-loathing and disgust he has. 

 

-

 

He doesn't sleep. Not for another 9 hours. He holds out long enough to see Harry and Niall come back, Louis go get food from the nurse out front that he doesn't eat and another police officer coming in to ask questions about what just happened, that he can't answer. (Liam does it for him, telling them what he saw and that there security footage in that room they can look through.)

The boys take shifts in sleeping, Liam doesnt move from under him, Niall takes the plastic seat and Louis and Harry make a make-shift bed on the floor with clothes and spare hospital blankets. 

He, meanwhile, darts his eyes around the room and refuses to let them shut for more than 3 seconds. If he does, and relaxes simultaneously, he will sleep. Something he's learnt about himself. The one thing he refuses to do right now.

Harry pulled the blankets over them when he came back from work, looking exhausted. They do little to warm him, but Liam does it well enough he keeps the two of them warm.

 

-

 

He falls asleep for a few hours in the early hours of the morning. Dropping off when Niall moves to sit beside him, holds his right hand and smooths the worn out skin and works the cold out from them, and Liam rubs at his back shushing him and it seems the ache in his bones and the pain he feels (because if a nurse comes near him with any type of needle or medication he'll lose it) is gone, just for that point in time.

He's awoken, however, when his mind is overrun by nightmares. By the crack of a belt across his skin and the clinking of heavy chain and slam of the door. He wakes up gasping in a cold sweat. But the boys are there, shushing him before another panic attack, and it's just them which is so much better. 

 

-

 

His mum comes in at 9am, rushing from Bradford as quick as she could with his dad. Having had to organise carpools and rota's as quick as she could to ensure her other children were alright during her absence. 

The two come rushing in, shocked by the sight of their son. He hasn't been home in a year easy now, and the last time they saw him was 7 months back. Any calls they've made haven't been answered, only texts.

He sits up in the bed, pulling the cover up to his chin because he doesnt want them to see the sick state of his body. Liam sits right behind him, explaining everything in what is, to him, white noise. He hears Liam say he's finding it hard to talk when he opens his mouth to say something and nothing comes out, breaking down into hideous sobs which he's so _embarrassed_ about. His parents hug him, his mum wetting his hair with tears and he notices his dad tearing up too. Possibly the first time thats happened in Zayns presence. 

Its a sense of nakedness, he literally has no dignity, or virtue or respect for himself, and everyone knows. His parents leave with a doctor, only return with the knowledge of any serious injury he has sustained ever, and the result of his relationship with Nathan. Nathan, who he knew they liked when they met. Nathan, who acted such a gentlemen in front of everyone. Nathan, who was a bloody angel until the truth was realised and it was  _too late._

Just  _too late._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so first chapter, quite dark but yeah. 
> 
> i hope you like. Sorry the ending bit was kinda shit, i just want to get it out the way so i can get on with the rest of the story.


	3. Discharged

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy moly. I never expected so many reviews or comments so fast! Neither Kudos! Thank you guys!
> 
> This is a bit of a filler chapter, and a little rushed. I apologise in advance.

 

**Z A Y N**

Seven, torturous days in hell. Always at arms reach from panic attacks and crippling anxiety like the terror won't relent it's grip. Yet it all passes in the fuzzy, horrid daze that he cannot relinquish. A therapist came to visit him, Harriet told him it was necessary to evaluate his mental status for a reason he zoned out on and didn't necessarily care about. In the time spent at the hospital Liam never left his side. There were always at least two of the boys present in his room, keeping and eye on him, waiting for him to explode.

After the week in hell he was released. Discharged by the hospital staff he couldn't put names to faces and expectant police officers who kept looking for answers he couldn't give. 

During those seven days he had not spoken one word, every sound that escaped him came in the form of a whimper or desperation. 

And in those seven days, bed-ridden and stripped of all modesty, he was left to the sound of his own thoughts. The reminder of his complete and utter worthlessness. Force-fed food he didn't need and obviously deprived of any and all sharp objects that could be used to harm himself with. Never let up to the bathroom on his own so they knew he couldn't purge. Plagued by nightmares of restraint, of powerlessness, of insults that were voiced not only by Nathan, but by him and reminders of  _he fucking loved you and you always let him down you coward._

Gaining more weight than he always had and adding to his already rock bottom self-esteem and self-worth.

 

The only thing good, about that seven day period was that Liam had informed him he would go home with him. That it'd be like old times and he could recover in a much safer environment with him and the others. 

 

Anywhere was better than here, and anywhere was better than  _there_ and anywhere would certainly be better than  _that place._

 

\-------

 

**L O U I S**

 

A day before Zayn was released from hospital, he and Harry had been assigned to go get Zayns stuff from his and Nathans old apartment.

When the two arrived the place was glaringly blank and deprived of any life. Few pictures were on the wall, little furniture stained with the musky scent of sex, cigarettes and alcohol. Like someone desperately tried to rid of the stench and failed. Empty, and some smashed beer bottles were on the floor and the coffee table had wiped down blood on it - they had been informed of the night Liam found out what had been going on. And oh god, had it hit them like a sledgehammer.

_At first, Zayn and Nathan seemed like the dreamtime, the power couple, the dynamic duo. It seemed the two effortlessly fit in their sickening fondness and PDA towards one another. Maybe, Louis personally didn't like the thought of that. Always believing that Liam and Zayn would've always been better together - the two had been stuck at the hip from the get go, through thick and thin. It was such a shock when Nathan and Zayn announced they were in a relationship._

_Nathan was different back then, he was a gentleman, and he was good with a fantastic sense of humour that matched his own and a quirk in his step._

_So it never struck any of them that Nathan had been hurting Zayn, ever. They looked so happy._

_It didn't occur to any of them, that the nights Nathan hung out with them and said "oh yeah, Zayn sends his love but he had work to do." or "he's tired tonight." In actual fact meant Nathan had gotten Zayn to quit his job and was actually either at home doing all the work or bound in a corner somewhere, crying out in muffled agony or despair._

_He dropped off so slowly, you see. At first he only missed meeting up with them every now and again, then it was every other week and then it was every time. So slow to react and really question Zayn dropping off their radar._

_He never answered their calls, and it was a very rare and occasional text that exchanged conversation back and forth as any form of communication with their good friend._

_Then Liam announced he was worried for Zayn never coming out, never talking to them when they were literally attached at the hip for year. the 5 boys a solid team that nothing could break, except for this apparently. And that Nathan had a colder atmosphere around him nowadays._

_One thing lead to another and Zayn texted Liam 'its nothing, i promise.' In one of their rare conversations and that did it for Liam._

 

_He had driven over that night to the apartment that once held parties and meet ups. Expecting to confront Zayn for kind-of ignoring them for near two years now. Only to see Nathan slamming him into the wall, choking him and punching him in the gut._

_Liam had told them he pushed open the door and yanked Nathan off Zayn, pushing him as far away as he could in an attempt to rid of him; check his best friend was going to be ok._

_Liam told them, of the struggle that ensued. The horrible realisation about how long this had been going on for. How small Zayn was now, how weak and damaged he looked. He told them, he had lost grip on Nathan and the next thing he hears is the crash and sickening thud of a body hitting the ground, only to see Zayn had been thrown head first at the table, hitting the corner and losing his grip on reality while Nathan ran and he fled to Zayns side, cradling his head and begging him "hold on, Zayn, please hold on."_

 

It was pitiful how the rest of the house was. Pitiful how much Zayn now owned, not nearly enough clothing and few possessions. They couldn't find any of his books or cherished comics. Couldn't find any of his beloved art supplies or works. Nothing seemed to be Zayns. 

Harry opened a trunk at the end of the bed and the contents terrified them. The rope, chains, painful-looking sex devices and padlocks. The assortment of gags and a collar horrified the two, slamming it shut not 5 seconds after they'd opened it, backing away like it was a wild animal or ticking bomb.

When they finally left that wretched place they left with a black covered photo album they'd found under the bed that held their friends name in his cursive writing and a total of 2 long-sleeved shirts, 1 t-shirt, 2 pairs of jeans (one black and one blue) and 3 pairs of boxers.

He texted Liam:

_To LiLi: Got his clothes. Theres literally nothing else._

Usually, he would add approximately 10,000 emojis and smileys faces. But now he didn't want to nor find the need to. 

They were down the road when his phone dinged a response.

_From LiLi: What clothes were there._

_To LiLi: Not enough._

_To LiLi: Like, 3 shirts, 2 jeans, few boxers. Otherwise the only other thing we got was a photo album we found._

They found other things of course. But there was no way in hell or earth they would bring back the multitudes of blades they found in the bathroom drawers for Zayns use. No fucking way.

_From LiLi: k, dropping them round now?_

_To LiLi: Yep, on way._

 

-

 

He had so few clothes that the three of them, Harry, Niall and himself went out that afternoon to get him new clothing. The old ones in such a state they were certain they were going to burn them the first opportunity they got. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, i thought this would take at least a month for anyone to notice. I have chapters written, just not so much of stuff at the beginning so i'm working on whatever i can. I have term break in 9 days time and hopefully i'll write again soon. 
> 
> Also, i should mention. I've fallen in love with this incredible fid on here called "How Could We Be So Blind?" By WrennAddyson. I highly recommend you check it out, comment and leave her Kudos.
> 
> Thanks so much you guys.


	4. End of the Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zayn starting a new life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there, so i wanted to let you know that this fic will not stop or change at all due to recent events. I will finish this off - just because he left the band doesn't mean he left our hearts or our fandom. A message about other fics; please let the authors recover in time and decide what they need to do. Of course, encourage them to write but don't nag or force them. This is a hard, dark time for the fandom but we will get through it. We will. (that being said, if you do fan art please dont leave him out). Please take the time to send some love to people who are really upset about this, it'll mean a lot to them. Just remind them that this is making Zain happy.
> 
> I want to take this opportunity to say it's ok if your upset about it. What's not ok is people laughing at you because you're upset - people cry over sportspeople and actors that leave or die. You're within your right to be upset that Zayn left. I just hope that people understand he was too stressed and becoming depressed. He was brave for his decision - and i hope it reflects the incredibly poor treatment and reverence from Modest!Management who has pushed these boys so hard and worked them to the bone. To the point of one leaving so he can discover who he is.
> 
> I hope you enjoy. Comment if you need any support because i will provide it.
> 
> (Note: i will be aiming to write his name as 'Zain' in the future out of respect, but I've already written some things and its habit, so expect mismatched name spellings).

**L I A M**

****It had been a few days after Zayn was discharged that Liam caught Zayn cleaning the house.

Even though it had been over a week, he was not nearly recovered enough - still weak and in serious need of rest and care. Not to mention he was still extremely malnourished and needed to get his strength back.

"Hey Zayn?" He called quietly, walking up behind him softly and announcing his presence before scaring the smaller man. Despite his efforts however, he jumped. Nearly dropping the plate he held in his hands.

"You dont need to do that, ok?" He continued, approaching the startled man to take the plate he he'd in his hands gently. The atmosphere became very tense - as tense as Zayn held himself. Almost as if he were holding his body in anticipation for a strike that Liam would  _never_ supply.

"Why don't you sit down love?" He tacked on, placing the plate in its rightful place in the cabinet above their heads. "You look exhausted."

~ This wasn't a lie, since they had gotten back from the hospital sleep, while Zayn got it, was always plagued by nightmares and memories of past events. Usually waking up screaming in the early hours of the morning. Of course, by the time Liam had reached his bedroom he had gotten himself under control, terrified upon Liams entry like he was about to be punished for his vivid and terrible dreams.

But no, Liam never pushed Zayn. He used to be his best friend after all, still is and always will be. He was never going to be anything but supportive to the man he had known all his life. 

The first night Liam left Zayn after he had calmed down, not wishing to push his luck. But then he realised that maybe he should've stayed, noticing the new cuts on his arms.

( _Now it was safe to say all razor blades had been thrown away, he would never fault Zayn for this, for such a dark time one needed support and love. Shouting at one for self-harm would never work_ ).

Then onwards Liam stayed in Zayns room, long after he had fallen back into a restless, mumbling sleep. Holding his best friends hand tightly, massaging the skin and kissing the knuckles. He had drawn up the wicker chair beside the bed and slept sitting in that with his head half on the bed. 

The smaller man hadn't uttered a word since what the boys had dubbed 'the doctor incident' - something they still despised themselves for happening, relieved that the trial could go on without Zayn - the last thing they wanted was to add more stress to his life, but they still had the whole trial with Nathan, should Zayn wish to press charges.

(Liam was secretly terrified he wouldn't). ~

Zayn stood there in front of him, seeming to be stuck in-between decisions. So Liam made it for him, "Come on," he cocked his head and placed a hand gently on the small of his back, looking into Zayns eyes to check that was ok before leading him to the couch.

`

_(He had been so weak coming back from the hospital, and still sore from the bruises that it was near impossible for him to move, let alone walk by himself. Liam had to nearly walk him everywhere on the first two days._

_The day they'd gotten back Liam decided it would be a good idea for Zayn to get a bath - not some lame one from the hospital, a real one with bubbles._

_He had been ever so careful, asking Zayn about it first and asking for permission to touch him or remove clothing while he did it. Being slow and gentle, even more so when Zayn - who was sat on the closed toilet seat - started to get laboured breaths. He stopped, checking it was ok to continue, wether there was anything he needed Liam to do at that point. Zayn shook his head and clamped his eyes shut when Liam steadily stood him up and pulled down the track pants that he was wearing. Zayn was obviously struggling with the exposure, so Liam rushed him in the pre-drawn water. Leaving his boxers on so he didn't lose all sense of modesty._

_He stepped in the bath and its like all tension drained out of him. Relaxing into the water and letting his eyes shut._

_He never forgot how long and gorgeous Zayns eyelashes had always been. But even more so now, even with the still obvious bruising he was attractive. The dark thick lashes fanned over his cheeks, long and luscious and dark._

_"Zayn," He said gently, twirling his hands in the water where he had knelt down next to the tub, "Im going to wet your hair now, ok?" Zayn gently nodded, not_ _opening his eyes at all. Seemingly lost in the comfort the water provided. Liam didn't want to disturb his peace and so, gently, ever so gently, slid his hands under Zayns head and supported it when he lowered it ear deep in the water. When it got to that point Zayns eyes snapped open and he seemed to panic. "Shush, shush, baby I've got you. Its ok, I've got you you're safe." He paused in his actions until Zayn nodded, calming down again enough for him to ruffle the strands underwater and make sure it was wet enough. He then bought his head back up and proceeded to make a lather with shampoo in his hands before pushing it through the jet black hair, massaging the scalp as he did._

_When that was done he rinsed the lather off and did the same with conditioner, dipping his hand under the water to hold Zayns as it set, thumbing over the knuckles as normal and mumbling soothing words._

_Getting out was harder. First he had to stand Zayn up, now pliant and halfway to sleep. Then he had to step him out and wrap him securely in a towel that went around his shoulders. Liam did not fail to notice that in the time he had taken to turn around and get the huge white towel Zayn had become more aware of his surroundings and was using his arms to cover his torso and thighs. The look of shame and insecurity apparent. Liam shushed him, "Hey Zayn its ok, can you just look at me babe? Please look at me?"_

_Zayn did, slowly lifting his head up from where it bowed into his caved chest. "Hey, babe, see. im not looking anywhere else. Just keep your eyes on me. I promise your going to be ok, alright?" By the time he had finished the sentence he was in front of Zayn and had wrapped the towel around his shoulders. Nice and secure. "Ok?"_

_Zayn nodded, blushing when Liam rubbed his upper arms and helped him back to his room.)_

_`_

"You don't ever have to do the house work here, ok Zayn?" He told him sincerely after making sure he was comfortable on the couch. "Never, I don't want you to think because you're living here you're obligated to work, ok?" He looked to Zayn, now crouched and sitting on his hunches to look up at the other, hoping to come across less frightening and smaller. 

"Im not  _him_ , Zayn. I'm not going to make you do anything. Alright?" 

He gave a small smile, hoping that would encourage a response. But Zayn seemed like he couldn't get the words out again, opening his mouth to speak, but only releasing small gagged sounds and then a whimper of embarrassment. He still waited, only ever patient and as supportive as he could muster. Eventually he got a nod, timid and small, but a nod nonetheless. 

He smiled brightly at Zayn, hoping to enforce some positivity in his friend. He stood, slowly, and leaned to kiss the top of Zayn head - always knowing that calmed him down from years of knowing him. No matter how many times he denied it.

 

\------

 

Eating was obviously an issue. Dinner was especially hard and he knew it was not helping his best friends self-esteem or positive thoughts. It always took some encouragement to eat his food - a merger amount, but massive compared to before.

See, while Zayn was with Nathan he was denied food by the man, Zayn told him by writing it down one time as an excuse to try lessen the amount he had to eat. 

_(Please dont. I can't eat that much._

_"Zayn please you need to eat more."_

_Please, i literally can't._

_"Why not honey?" - Zayn blushed at the name._

_He said if i was to be an artist i'd do it on an artists diet. I just can't manage more.)_

That was all he revealed, never going in depth about anything which they all respected. Liam had not idea where this 'artists diet' came from - or how long it had gone for. But he knew that now Zayn was in need of nourishment - wether it was the result of this 'artists diet' or the suspected eating disorder.

Liam believed it to be a combination of both, given his residence to food and unrelenting need to clear his throat after eating. 

He was also hinted into the fact after he caught Zayn purging two days beforehand. 

Agin, he wasn't going to yell at his friend for expelling the contents of his stomach into the toilet, he pulled him back - telling him to  _stop Zayn gorgeous, please stop!_ Flushing the loo and wiping his suffering friends fingers and mouth. Letting him sob onto his shoulder, thumping down on it with a closed fist and then surprising a squeal of terror.

He got him to eat again after the acid stopped burning at his Esophagus and throat. Watching on in extreme sadness as his friend obviously struggled with each bite.

That, if not beforehand, that was when he vowed that Zayn would see this through. Whether it was the last thing he'd do.

 

\------

This night was no exception.

Watching Zayn force himself to take each minuscule bite, chewing it at least 30 times before swallowing and moving onto the next fork. It looked almost painful given the expression on Zayns face, but he didn't give into Zayn silent plea, _please don't make me eat, please_. Instead he continually smiled at him, showing how proud he was with each bite. Hoping that his slowing down with eating was encouraging him to eat at his own pace.

He noticed Zayn drank a lot of water too. Easily downing two pints per meal.

Noticing Zayn stopped eating he looked up. “You ok?”

Zayn nodded, while his eyes were dead it still looked sincere, he pointed to his now-empty glass. Liam had forgotten to bring out a jug (Zayn wasn’t strong enough to lift it yet anyway) and realised Zayn was asking for more. He didn't want Zayn to feel smothered and realised pointing to the glass was asking permission to leave the table.

“Zayn, it's perfectly ok if you want more water. Do you want me to get more or do you want to?” He always left the option to Zayn, Always.

Zayn grasped the glass in his hand and pushed away from the table, Liam smiled back at him.  
As usual he left silently, Liam heard the tap turn on and shut off.

It's after that that he hears the smash.

Pushing out from the table also he sprints to the kitchen to see broken glass and water all over the kitchen floor. Zayn is on the otherside of the broken glass and hyperventilating. Inhaling huge gulps of air that don't do anything for his clarity.  
“Zayn, Zayn! It’s ok honey, it’s ok!” Liam holds his hands up in a way he hopes isn't threatening. “Calm down, please beautiful.” He sees tears stream down his face and his arms begin to shake. He steps forward to the cupboard that has the dust pan and brush in it, “It's ok Zayn, I'm going to clean this up. Just stay put a while, ok?” Noticing his friends sock-clad feet.

Zayn nods furiously, eyes bulging and still panicking. He works fast in the hopes that’ll calm him down, but no - Zayn is still very much distressed right now.

When he’s finished he scans the vicinity once more for any smaller shards he missed but he doesn't see any. He looks up before approaching the scared man before him, holding his hands up and open in front of him hoping that it doesn't appear menacing at all. Zayn still flinches.

“S-Sor-“ Is all Zayn can choke out before the panic sets in again and he’s doubling over, curling up on the floor in a ball, his hands splayed over his head in a protective manner. He crouches and pats his back, shushing him and rubbing the knobs of his spine as he whimpers. Waiting patiently for Zayn to look up. “It's ok Zayn.” He says softly. Now moving to wrap his left arm around the others shins. “It’s alright Zayn, I'm not mad, please look at me darling, just look at me, it’s gonna be ok.”

He’s hesitant. But Liam knows he understands and is working to look up at him. He whimpers when he looks up, his eyes alone tell Liam how scared he is right now. “I'm not gonna hurt you Zayn it's ok. It was just a glass.”

Zayn uncurls, turning into him, mouthing ‘sorry’ and it coming out under the breath. Over and over. “It was just a glass, beautiful,”

_“It was just a glass.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys thanks so much for such positive feedback and kudos, it means a lot to me. 
> 
> This chapter was done in one go again, i apologise for any typos and mistakes in advance.
> 
> Also, school hols next week. Will write tonnes and hopefully get past the intro bit of the story and get to the main plot.
> 
> And please, if you need any support or anything at all please comment/send me a message.


	5. Boys #1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A pact has begun.

**L I A M**

 

A decision was made between the boys that since there was no way they were just going to disappear from Zayns life again. Louis firmly stating for the other two that; 'We've let him down once, we're not gonna do it again."

Tonight as a result they were all going to meet up again, the boys coming around to dinner at Liams. 

Liam was secretly scared of how this may turn out, after all, Zayns been struggling enough with jut Liam n the room. He has no idea how Zayn will cope with another 3. Then again, he has no idea wether its the food thats edging him or the presence of people.

Its normal, albeit tense when they sit down. Zayn frowns when his plate of spoon of rice, half chicken breast and 2 bits of broccoli is set down in front of him. He notices Niall staring at the plate, obviously fighting an inner turmoil to increase whats on his plate; desperate to help him. Zayns stiff, giving off an air of discomfort and awkwardness. Liam hates it, the obvious struggle to just have the first bite. He has to constantly remind himself its early days, and anything right now is progress. That Zayns stomach has shrunk due to the starvation, malnutrition and dieting. For Zayn to eat a whole plate would be like Liam and the boys eating several servings of dishes from Man vs. Food.

Nialls expression seems to change though to something softer, much more tolerant, as if he's read Liams mind and understands that Zayns anxious with just this. That stuffing him will not be the answer to this equation. 

As usual, Zayn cuts his food up into small bits and takes small bites that he chews for an unnecessarily long amount of time. He winces when he swallows, like its physically painful to do and that makes Liam wonder wether Zayns been sneaking off to purge. But he's had a constant eye on him ever since he came into his care. He cannot recall a time when Zayn would be alone long enough to do it or notice any chance in his demeanour that would give him away. He trusts that Zayn hasn't, and if he has, he hopes that he will trust Liam or one of the boys in due time to help.

After approximately 10 minutes though Zayn begins to shake and tears roll down his face. He drops his fork with a clatter immediately and rushes to his side. 

"Zayn, Zayn honey whats wrong?"

But Zayn just keeps crying, turning away from the table to cry, a look of disgust on his face. A chair scrapes and Zayn flinches, but he calms when Niall comes around to hush him. Patting his back and sit next to him, whispering into his ear what Liam presumes are encouraging words.

Zayn shakes his head at something Niall says, making his way to stand up and leave the table. He goes to speak and try convince him to eat the rest but Niall beats him to it.

"Here, let me take 'im Li, let me."

Its not what Liam expected but he can see the look in Nialls eyes. They scream  _trust me on this. Trust me_ , and Liam does. He does trust Niall so he moves out there way and watches in silence as Niall helps Zayn climb the stairs to his room.

 --------

"I'm going to ask him about seeing a therapist soon." It is the first time any three of them have spoken since Niall and Zayn left; he silence that follows is even more deafening than before.

"Will he want that?" Harry asks timidly, "you know how he acted in the hospital."

"Yeah - of course its just that, you know. He needs someone to consult about this. He dying in front of our very eyes and there's only so much we can do." Liam leans back in his seat with his hands on his head. 

Louis clears his throat, "what if we all asked him, together?"

Liam contemplated this. "Do you think it may seem were ganging up on him?"

Louis sighs; "I have no idea."

Another silence falls on the trio. 

"How about," Harry starts, "how about you ask him first and then we give him some time to decide. If he says no we can give him a little longer and maybe then we can all ask him. Of course, we can't appear threatening or anything. But maybe thats the best option."

He nods, "Yeah, i get that. So i'll ask him when the time's right, ok?" At that moment Niall and Zayn walk back in, Zayn looks exhausted, the tear tracks still evident on his face as he leans on Niall almost fully. He doesnt make eye contact with anyone, opting to stare at his feet. Surprisingly, he doesnt flinch when Liam stands up, walking over to his near defeated companion. He bends down to try catch Zayns gaze, letting Zayn come to him and giving him permission to touch him. He thinks its given when Zayn makes momentary eye contact and doesnt freak out. Thus engulfing him in a hug.

"Hey gorgeous."

Liams always known that Zayn, while he's strong and before he very much lived up to his 'bad boy' reputation, he's also very much a teddy bear, in the sense that he likes being cared for. Its never been to this standard but before Zayn could deny being called 'love' and 'dear' all he wanted, it never fooled Liam. Now Liam knows that the compliments may help him in some way and make him feel special and loved like before. 

"Do you want to do anything or are you ok with watching a film or something?"

Zayn nods, lifting his head from Liams shoulder to look over it. Liam doesnt see, but he looks towards where Harry and Louis are on the couch. They give him a small encouraging smile and Louis pats the space next to him. Zayn returns his head into the junction of Liams neck and shoulder for a breather before unwrapping himself and making his way to the couch. 

He notes that Zayns walking is still limp, painful and awkward. Stiff, with his back straight as a ruler and pace short. It worries him and he can see it on the other boys faces too, but no one comments on it. He walks over the the cabinet and calls out a few film options, and, as tradition dictates, they chose with the most kick-ass one available, or the most ironic one available. Tonight, Aladdin seems to be on the agenda.

(Although its unspoken that it was chosen since Zayn has always secretly loved Aladdin, since they were toddlers its been known that Liams favoured disney films are Toy Story and Cinderella, Louis' Peter Pan and Pocahontas, Harry's How to train your Dragon and Mulan, Nialls the jungle book and sleeping beauty and Zayn's The Lion King and Aladdin).

\---- 

Later that night after the boys have gone and when Liams finished cleaning up the popcorn bits (from Louis and Nialls food fight - much less catastrophic than normal; he thinks they were fooling around in the hopes of eliciting a laugh from Zayn), he's got Zayn into bed, teeth brushed, face washed and pain medicine taken.

"Hey, Zayn. Want to ask you something and I really really want you to think about it before you say no immediately, is that ok?"

The man in the bed stays silent but eventually looks at him right in the eye and nods.

"Would you consider, please, maybe seeing someone? Like a professional to talk to apart from me and the boys? A therapist of some sort?" He paused a second. "I just think that it could really help you clear some headspace and help you accept things that have happened to move on, you know?" He sniffs, wiping his face with the back of his hand. "i just really dont want you to hurt yourself anymore, or hate yourself because of whats been said and done to you, so please just like think about it? Please?"

Zayn is silent where he's sitting cross-legged under the sheets. His mouth is pursed and line of sight is zoned out just above the clasped hands in his lap.

"Zayn?" Liam asks quietly.

The called nods breathing out before looking up at him and nodding again. 

"Is that saying you'll think about it?"

Zayn nods again.

"Thank you, thank you Zayn. Take all the time you need to properly consider it. I promise i'll do all the work, i'll find you someone who can really help. Just-than you so much."

Zayn gives him a shy smile. The conversation is over for now.

Liam kisses his forehead. "Thank you gorgeous," he stands and Zayn slides down into the bed. "Goodnight beautiful." He says as he tucks the other in, gently pressuring the covers to fit around his small form.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so i'm sorry this is so shit. To be honest i just want to get the intro out the way and get to the main plot. Regardless, i hope you enjoyed it.


	6. Stand By You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter just expanded and in Zayns POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE NOTE, THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER AND A BIT BEFORE IT BUT IN ZAYNS POV.
> 
> Also, I want to add pics but I don't know how to do the thing where you put a link in with an (x) Help?

**Z A Y N**

_My God Malik, you worthless fuck._

_Idiot_

_Stupid_

_Retarded_

_Worthless_

Zayn chanced a glance at the clock, the red light claiming it was fourteen minutes past two in the morning as he lay awake, staring at the ceiling as voices in his head pounded any and all self-worth and confidence out of him. Despite the beautiful ache emitting from his thighs, now they return.

_Worthless_

_Fat_

_Ugly_

It's just too much see, sometimes he would welcome sleep, escape the empty darkness of the room he lay in, hoping that he could fly away from this place, fly away into a safer darkness, away from people; away from himself. Authorities however, the prospect of shutting his eyes was beyond terrifying. The threat of reliving past mistakes and learned lessons eating away at his core, webbing so deep he wouldn't ever be able to claw his way out.

_Dispensable_

_Fag_

_Pathetic_

It's like he's drowning on the nights he stays awake. Drawing of thoughts of self loathing and self deprecation. Reminding his miserable existence over and over again how _he's not worth it_ and _doesn't deserve anything_ Liam or the boys have given him: Doesn't deserve the clothes, doesn't deserve the shelter and certainly does not need, want or deserve the food. He thought that after he silenced the voices (two hours earlier) by slicing into his thighs; reminding himself  _ten and ten only_  in a mantra, Just because he doesn't want Liam to see; doesn't wish to to bear the embarrassment, shame or exposure. Forget that; so he wouldn't be able to see Liam reaction (not that he's seen it before, he's always looked away - burning red with the self-hatred and mortification). He bets it would he disappointment, anger, rejection even. 

_Stupid Worthless Shit!_

The boys were coming to dinner later on. He's already cringing in his bed for an event that won't take place for another, now, 15 hours. The thought of consuming food n front of them again was just ridiculous. Could they not  _see_  the size of his shoulders? The bulge of his stomach? The flab of his fucking thighs? Could they not the the obvious work that had gone into trying to rid of the disgusting excess on his body? Or was this some joke, again, set up by Nathan to boost his hopes and then smash them to a million pieces?

No, no. He would not let that happen again. He has learned this lesson before, he has learned the consequences of a worthless being like him dreaming, hoping. He will not let them win this game as far as he can.

The thing that terrifies him the most though, is that now he sometimes feels like its not a joke, like its not a game.  _Sometimes_ it crawls into his ridiculous brain that maybe they like him like he thought they did. Sometimes he wonders wether he really is away from Nathan, for good. 

And just  _sometimes_ he likes the idea that now someone cares.

But what he never expected out of this was to be ok, especially with Liam. To feel like they aren't pulling his leg and that they are genuinely being nice... to  _him._

It confuses him and he gives in another few hours of though before giving up on trying to understand himself. All he is is a mess. An irrevocably fucked up mess of a being that doesn't deserve anything.

Doesn't deserve the bed he's on or the treatment he gets. He doesn't deserve any kindness or help.

He doesnt deserve the dreamless sleep that finally comes at 5.22am.

Or the lovely person that wakes him up with a smile and a gentle shake on the shoulder at 8.00-8.30am every morning.

\-------

_Oh god its worse than I thought._

He takes a breath and wills all the sweat and clam from namely his hands to disappear as he greets the boys at the door. Forcing a smile on his face, the smile he has taken months to perfect. The smile that he knows the boys know is bullshit but smile back at his efforts anyway.

_Worthless. Stupid. Fucked up._

He, for the first time since the hospital tries talking to them.

But since what happened in the hospital it's like there's a permanent vice around his vocal chords. Some irremovable barrier between him and vocal communication that makes him just look even more stupid every time he opens his mouth. He's left there feeling mortified and staring at the floor. He refuses to meet anyones eyes as the tension  _he_ created thickens around him. The boys dont seem fazed by it. But all he can think of is how  _stupid_ he is and  _what a waste of time they are making by trying to include him in any way._  

Supper is served. 

His hands shake and his mind clogs up. He can feel his heart pounding and his bones don't quite seem to be in alignment when he moves. He takes it slow, not that he can eat any faster. Trying to stop the panic thats seizing him.

_Can they not see what they're doing?_

He wants to sob, to throw the plate at the wall. He wants to run to the nearest sink; or bucket; or toilet and itch the temptation at the back of his throat. Claw all the worthlessness out of him and try to make himself somewhat presentable.

He refuses to cry though. He refuses to show even more weakness. He refuses to show how painful it really is to swallow. Cuts his food up small and chews constantly. 

 _(_ _Because he's learnt that the more you chew it the less it hurts coming back up)._

He can't stop clearing his throat and at the times when Louis, or Niall, or Harry, or Liam aren't talking it makes him feel so awkward, so exposed. But he can't stop the persistent need to clear it. Especially during and after eating.

_Dear fuck you're so messed up._

The first tear falls when the voice says that. He wants to scream  _I know ok?_ But he can't. No, he has to eat, and gain weight, and become fatter and fatter and less of a being than before. 

Theres a mantra going on in his head and he just wants it to stop, the melancholy canticle that consumes his mind, and now, because he has no access to a blade, or enough time alone with the ones he's hidden away, he cannot. He is left to bear the brunt of the disgusting truth that swallow him whole. Reminding him he is but a liability, a objectified item that Nathan revealed. Showed him his true worth and true capabilities.

He doesnt realise how much he's shaking until "Zayn? Zayn honey what's wrong?" sounds from opposite him at the table. He breath hitches, the fork clatters on the plate and the tears fall.

He pushes away form the table. He moves so he cannot face them and hides his face in his hands, because he can't go anywhere else. 

A chair screeches off to his left and he jerks. 

_You know what you do deserve though? You deserve the punishment._

Looking through his fingers he sees Liam, crouched before him with his brows stitched together. Hushing him, soothing him out to the best of his abilities. He feels who he knows is Niall patting his back, the Irish accent goes as far as filtering his shushing. 

(The thing also is is that; that's quite comforting).

The sobs that are wretched from his body become even more violent, even if he can't hear them he knows the boys are tying to help out.

_You dont deserve to sit in their presence._

"C'mon Zayn, lets go upstairs for a bit, eh?" He hears Niall breath into his ear. "It's ok Zaynie, its ok."

That just makes him push his chair away, his knees almost giving out as he stands. Liam catches him though.

"Here, let me take 'im Li, let me." He hears someone say behind him. He feels so drained now; possibly a combination of only a few hours sleep (not that that's anything new) and the ragged cries. A new support helps him up the stairs, the one from Liam missing.

It's like climbing a mountain, when you climb stairs shaking, when your bodies energy is focused on you crying your eyes out. And he forgets for a moment who he is, he forgets who is holding him and its only when they get in the bedroom that he realises he's being led there. 

Suddenly, the memory of Nathan first taking him without permission blind him. 

-

_Hands shove him onto the bed, ripping his jeans off as he tries to fight them._

_"Don't try you idiot, you, I'll teach you a lesson. Teach you not to answer back."_

_It's the first time he's fucked without prep, the first time he's fucked at all. The first time he has sex and loses his virginity he feels a terrible burn and utter agony, the first time 'stop please stop!' is ripped from his lips before a hand pushes his face so hard into the pillow he thinks his nose may break._

_And the first time he realises he may be too deep to end what he has gotten into._

_-_

He squeals when they cross the threshold, jerking himself away from the person holding him up and finding its just Niall. He sees the look of pure shock on the blondes face and that makes him sink to his knees in shame and again hides his face in his hands. Stupid Zayn and stupid squealing.

_You worthless worthless idiot. Go kill yourself._

"Hey Zaynie?"

Warmth encompasses him, gently wrapping him up and holding him, "Hey Zaynie I'm going to lift you up and we can talk for a bit, is that alright?"

He nods but goes to stand.  _Niall won't be able to support your weight._ However, and arm scoops him up and before he can protest he's on the bed and can feel the flush of embarrassment. 

_You fat, ugly oaf._

Niall doesnt hold him anymore, instead he sits cross-legged opposite him and leisurely draped his hands over his knees, holding them open in an invitation to hold them. 

He, however, pulls his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around his shins, hoping to cover the mess that he is with his enormous thighs. 

There's a moment of silence between them, he has been able to stop himself from crying, but that by no means indicates he is ok right now.

"Look, Zayn... I have no idea how I'm supposed to approach this," He looks up when Niall speaks. Takes in what he is wearing and fully soaks in his presence. Its not anything different than what he remembers - a simple black knit jumper and beige jeans. He looks like Niall, and Zayn envies that a little. He's not sure why. "But I need to tell you something."

That worries Zayn a little, Nialls always been carefree and happy. Right now he looks almost sad, its the wrong look on Niall, its the wrong look on anyone of the boys, but especially Niall. He's supposed to laugh and giggle and stuff his face with food (Zayns so jealous of that metabolism). Although at this point in time he just looks serious. So serious.

"I need to apologise." He states, Zayn must looked shocked because Niall evaluates. "I'm sorry we didn't check up on you."

"It's hurt all of us boys - even though they may never deny it, that we've been hurt by what happen to you, but none of us more than you." Niall meets his eyes and they're so intense. "We all have a lot to make up for, as much as we hate that this has been done to you because of our ignorance we cannot change the past. We can only focus on the future." He gulps. "I'm sorry for not checking on you, Zayn, I'm sorry that you've been beaten down so far you do this to yourself. But please please understand Zaynie, you cannot be expected to get out of this alone, ok?" He leans down to meet his eyes again, shifting towards him and resting his hands on his skyward knees. "We love you Zayn." He whispers. "We missed you and we hate ourself for what we did. I also know you hate yourself now because of whats been done to you and it hurts to know that. But we're here now and we want to help. Obviously, you may not feel like you want it - I don't know what you may be thinking or could even  _imagine_ what you feel, but we want you healthy and happy again. We want to hear you sing and laugh and see your art and be with you. Maybe not quite as you were before, but a stronger, wiser version of you. You've been hurt so much and I only know the basics, and I know that you're drowning in negativity all day. But we are here, ok? We are here now and we want to help you, so please Zayn: Tell us in any way you can how you feel, if you feel like youre going to cry or break down or feel like shit. Please don't lock us out."

He pauses in the speech, gulping down and waiting for Zayn to meet his eyes again.

"Please let us help you darling, please?" He looks so earnest, his eyes so genuine and true thats Zayn half believes him. The voices from earlier ebb in the back of his mind, reminding him of his inner monologue that morning. "You might now believe me right now, I can see how scared you are and a million other things in your eyes-" (Zayn looks down immediately, because Niall can never know how fucked up he is - none of them can. If they do he will be sent away to  _that_ _place_ that Nathan warned him about. He will be. Niall gets onto his knees and leans down, trying to get him to look at him again. "-but asking for help is not weak Zayn. Letting us help you is not pathetic, please understand that, ok darling? We dont want you to feel like shit all the time, we dont want you to hurt or hate yourself. At all, we want you to feel ok."

'Ok', that's not something he's felt in a long time.

Zayn finally looks up, and he cannot stand the saddened or serious look on Nialls face any more, so he nods mutely. Its not much but it makes Niall smile. While he doesnt have the energy or capacity to return it it makes him feel better.

"Thank you darling." Niall says, straightening up and kissing his forehead. Its like a little bit of the tension has drained from him.

"While we're at it, is there anything you want to tell me?" Niall leans back. Mirroring how he is sitting with his legs crossed and arms wrapping around his shins. He shakes his head,  _there is no way in hell he will admit his fucked-up-ness to any of them any time soon._ "Are you sure?" He prods a bit, "Like, anything you just don't want Liam to know - I won't tell him if you dont want me to, I promise."

He looks up and for a moment considers showing the fresh cuts that are now stitching together on his thighs, but he dismisses the thought almost immediately. Niall looks like he's seen Zayn think of something, and looks like he's going to ask more questions. He shakes his head again and refuses to meet Nialls eyes.

The bleached blonde sighs - but it doesnt sound irritated. "Ok then."

They stay like that for a while, Niall lays back and puts his hands behind his head, telling Zayn about his week and letting him know what he's gotten up to. Encouraging him to tell him about his but he can't say much - he can't say anything, and just feels even stupider than before. Niall dismisses it and they do nothing but make (very one-sided) small talk and Zayn joins Niall by laying down. When they eventually join the boys he can hear the murmur of conversation that stops when they cross the threshold.

He doesnt look at any of them, opting to flit his gaze around the room and then the floor. He hears someone stand and sees Liams sock-clad feet before him, no sound is made until he gives in and looks up at Liam, who doesnt smile but looks warm and comforting and engulfs him in a hug. 

"Hey gorgeous."

He stiffens a bit because  _no, he is not gorgeous in any way shape or form._  

"Do you want to do anything or are you ok with watching a film or something?"

He nods, yeah, a film would be nice and Louis pats the space next to him; he does as he's told and takes the seat. Where they watch Aladdin and Niall and louis have a small popcorn war. It makes him smile softly; their antics are beyond amusing at the best of times. Liam sits on his other sides and casually rests his hand on the back of the sofa behind his head.

 

\------

 

Nialls words replay in his head several times that evening, it's a nice change from his own. 

"Hey, Zayn," Liam says when he's tucking him into the bed. (Zayn has no idea why he does it, its nice though and he feels comfortable after  - not that he deserves it). "I want to ask you something and I really really want you to think about it before you say no immediately, is that ok?"

He doesnt say anything, as usual, but after a few beats looks at him directly and nods. Holding the gaze.

Liam sighs. "Would you consider," He bites his lip, holding his right hand in his two, rubbing the back and smoothing it over, "please, maybe seeing someone? Like a professional to talk to apart from me and the boys? A therapist of some sort?" He pauses. "I just think that it could really help you clear some headspace and help you accept things that have happened to move on, you know?" Liam sniffs. "I just... just really dont want you to hurt yourself anymore, or hate yourself because of whats been said and done to you, so please just like think about it? Please?"

He looks so hopeful, so genuine like he actually wants Zayn to get help. He zones out, thinking over what Niall said before. Thinking how genuine he looked, its like they're desperate for him to get the 'help' without trying to show it too much. 

"Zayn?"

He nods before he looks at Liam, and the look of sadness on his face is also too foreign. No one should bother or worry on his behalf. He's just not worth it. So he nods again, yes. He will consider it. He will consider it for them.

"Thank you, thank you Zayn. Take all the time you need to properly consider it. I promise i'll do all the work, i'll find you someone who can really help. Just-than you so much." He feels like he's being doted on now and smiles a little as well as feeling a little uncomfortable with the attention. He's just not used to it. Its such a juxtaposition, a contrast to not two weeks ago. Its foreign.

Liam leans forward, his hot breath ghosting his forehead before he kisses him. "Thank you gorgeous," he whispers before standing

"Goodnight beautiful." 

 

\---

 

The events of the day cloud his mind for another good hour. But he does fall asleep eventually. And, as per usual is woken up in the later hours by the terror that courses his veins, the pain of his 'lessons' and the mental agony he is in. But he doesnt cut, he doesnt scream out too loud but Liam runs in anyway, as usual and holds his head as he weeps; weeps for his sorrows and weeps for his pain and weeps for his secrets.

Weeping until he sleeps and Liam tucks him in all over again and taking his seat in the wicker chair and resuming the now-tradition set in place.

 

_When you fight for every breath_

_And the waves are overhead_

_L_ _et me lay your mind to rest..._

_I will stand by you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, i'm embarrassed by the number of typos i've seen. I will go back and correct that, I'm sorry.
> 
> Also, noticed I see a lot better at writing Zayn POV that Liam or the others, what do you think? Please leave a comment of what you thought and let me know if u want anything in particular to happen with this story or see anything. I'm pretty much set in the plot but it would be interesting to hear any of your thoughts or ideas, it may inspire a few things. 
> 
> Thanks for reading I hope you enjoyed.


	7. Lost Count

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam and Zayn get around to talking. This time though Zayn manages to speak some.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please drop me a comment with your thoughts! Kudos means a lot but I really really want to hear your thoughts!
> 
> PICTURE FOR THE CHAPTER = http://you-wont-zee-me-coming.tumblr.com/post/115932668022
> 
> (We will pretend that it is Zayn and Liam)

 

**Z A Y N**

He has lost track of days between now and the first time they all came for dinner; it may have been a week or two - they've been around several times now. and if not all together, since Liam has to work again they have this rota going on. Where Harry comes when he's off on break and Louis comes on his lunch hour and Niall comes around at nine in the morning because he doesn't start work until 11 when any of the other three could come back and look after him. He's not sure how he feels about that. Some days he feels like he's being observed; watched, calculated and evaluated for some experiment. Other days he hates it. He just wants to be alone and cut and purge and just not have to deal with people. Other days he likes it; feels cared for. Those are good days. Those are the days he smiles. 

His parents called on Skype not long ago, it wasn't for long since he couldn't talk, but they informed him about everything and he's really very unsure about the sudden attention.

Liam bought him some comics the other day and he's reading an issue of one now. Zayn was shocked that Liam had remembered all his favourite issues, getting him to crack the first genuine smile in a long time...

-

 _Nathan burned all of his one by one about 8 months into the relationship. He can't remember what he did wrong, but he must've forgotten something or pissed him off no end, because he watched as Nathan ripped them to shreds and burnt them before his very eyes. Warning him; "Never again Zayn, ever." and he remembers the tears_ _pouring down his face before he was released from the chair he had been bound to, shoved into the bedroom and used._

_He reminisces how that night he realised how truly childish he could be, crying because of comics. It was then he vowed to never be foolish and juvenile again._

-

He still hasn't been able to talk. Attempting several times and it not working. He has also developed this expression now; one for just after he's cut or purge that shows he's not too bright for it to be fake, but not so low that he really reflects how he really feels. 

Liam hasn't found his small stash of his blades yet, thank goodness, because the voices still come, in the darkness of night and majority of the day. Crying out at him; reminding him of his true worth, of his actual abilities. He only knows there is only one way to silence them, by slicing through the layers of skin and itching the scratch at the back of his throat. Through the fasting that he cannot do nowadays and the beautiful agony of metal. 

He has learnt that Liam won't let him out of his sight for at least an hour to two hours after eating, but if he goes and gets a shower before bed he can get rid of at least half of dinner and honestly thats better than nothing at this point. The food itself is an alternative form of agony. First, he eats breakfast and that stuffs him, when he finally feels like he's not bloated anymore he then has to sit down and eat lunch which stuffs him again and is even more food than at breakfast, then when that feels like its finally digested he has to eat supper - it's like a chore. A fattening, disgusting, heart-wrenching chore.

When it comes to cutting he now he still has the ability to control himself as always, his cutting is in hand and he is in charge: Just as he has had control with his eating and now doesn't.

It eats at him, the guilt because he can see the trust Liam has in his eyes, the trust that he has not been continuing with this lifestyle but he can't see any other way to do it. He has several stashes, the one in his bedside table, one under the drawers in the bathroom, another on the bookshelf in his room (tucked away of course). His main stash being in a drawer in the medicine cabinet, just behind the spare box of paracetamol. There he has three; three gleaming promising pieces of metal that captivate him.

He has realised that ten is the optimum amount on each thigh and five to ten on each arm depending on his placement. That he can do ten on each thigh and it be effective enough for punishment but he can still walk easily enough. If he cuts more in the crook of his elbow he can roll up his sleeves and give the appearance that he is clean. Ruth, Liams sister visited last week and bought with her a few things, including a watch that he adopted and as a result can get away with some on the inside of his left wrist. 

It's a good system, he concludes. He can do everything clinically when it comes to food. He can get out as much as possible while the shower is on and can at least empty himself somewhat and then when it comes to cutting he can wait until Liams left his room or, when he's awake until early hours wait until Liams asleep - do the deed and get back to bed as if nothing happened. It may sound sick to others, but to him it's one of the best parts of his day.

 

When Harry comes around he usually comes up and gives him a hug. Not too tight but not too loose either. Zayn thinks Harry has taken it upon himself to encourage healthy eating (as if he could ever afford to eat junk food with these thighs and that ass). Every time he's around Harry makes food; cooks whatever his heart desires and encourages him to join in. On the good days he does, helping him measure out flour or stir the sauce (Harry never lets him chop anything though, he has noticed, or whisk anything over a few hundred grams). On the alright days he sits on the counter top and watches. Not doing anything and Harry doesn't push him. He likes that. On the bad days he doesn't even come to the kitchen. Just stares dully at whatever point is comfortable from wherever he's sitting or lying down. Even if he's not comfortable he doesn't move. He can't find it in himself to care about anything. On those days he is .02 of a second from breaking, from crying his heart out and wanting to die. 

On the bad days, Harry sits with him. Not at first, he thinks Harry calls or texts someone and does some rummaging around before he walks over to the spot Zayn has chosen that day; smiles sadly at him and lifts his head up to sit down so his head is in Harrys lap or against his shoulder with an arm slung around him.

 

Louis, same as Harry hugs him and always does random things, and Zayn thinks he's taken it upon himself - just as Harry has with cooking, to bring humour into his life. Bringing him some cartoon or funny movie the two watch. In reality it just makes him feel worse, because it 's obvious Louis' putting in effort to bring him these things but he just can't find the energy to laugh. Sometimes he can manage a smile, but it's fake and sometimes he thinks even Louis can see that. It doesn't mean he doesn't appreciate it though, because he really does. 

 

Niall, just like Louis is a bit of jester around him, but he's also a lot of things that Zayn can't quite pinpoint. He's just carefree and amicable, always reassuring him, being careful and kind. It's like the conversation they'd had a few weeks before " _we're here for you Zayn."_ Niall always makes sure to ask him what he's been up to and wether there's anything he'd like to talk about. Reminding him he's safe and they love him.

 

Liam... Liam is different again. He's like all the boys combined. He's always so soft and kind around him - as if Zayn himself is made from glass and millimetres away from shattering to a million pieces (a true fact on some days). Liam wakes him up each morning with a gentle shake on his shoulder and with a good morning smile, no matter what type of day it is. He gets Zayns clothes while he's still sleepily blinking or pushes him down and shushes him when he himself tries to get up and do it. Liam makes sure he eats and doesn't purge immediately after, makes sure he's warm and asks him how he's feeling (the response is the same every day; a shrug). Liam doesnt hit him or drag him by his hair anywhere. Liam hasn't had his way with him yet or made Zayn feel unsafe (uncomfortable is not the same as unsafe). Liam doesn't tell him he's worthless or stupid. He calls him much worse things like 'beautiful' and 'gorgeous' and 'honey'. Liam is everything right now - despite the names and food and denial to cut. Liam is like a beacon of light he is trying to deny he missed during his years with Nathan. Liam was the first person he thought of for help when Nathan first started teaching him and showing him what he truly is. Liam was the first person he thought of when he was -  _no, he will not go there ever again if he wishes to keep his sanity._  

Liam doesnt force him into anything or make him do housework, instead he often discourages him from it.

Liam almost makes him happy some days - almost gets him to pull on a genuine smile or a want to laugh at his antics. All while treating him the same way he did before Nathan. Liam tucks him into bed each night and kisses the top of his head or his forehead as if he knows that fights through the sludge that is his brain and cold rock that is his chest. Liam holds him together when he feels like he's about to shatter and Liam makes him feel guilty because he still cuts behind Liam back when Liam think he's ok. Some days Liam will hug him out of the blue. Just at the moment he needs something but he's not sure what, Liam is there. Muscular arms holding him together so he can fight the lump in his throat and not tear apart. 

It makes his head spin, not the mixed-matched rota's and who's with him this time or not. It's why they bother.  _Who_ would even care about a miserable thing like him anymore?  _Why_ are they treating him like this - because he knows it's only a matter of time before all hell breaks loose. After all, _w_ _hat_ are they hoping to achieve with this? The old Zayn? He's dead. He died a long  _long_ time ago. 

 _When_ will it all come crashing down?

 

_..._

 

_He doesn't know how many times he has been beaten now, he has lost count. Lost count of the number of broken ribs and fractured limbs. Lost count of the tears shed and the screams ripped from him. Lost count of the times he has begged for Nathan to stop and lost count of the days since he didn't hurt in at least one place on his body._

_Nathan grips at his head, failing to grab any hair since he shaved it not long ago and proceeding to_ _hook his arm around his neck and drag him to their room that way, choking him as he does. He fights the arm, gasping for air that only comes when he is thrown on the bed. He feels his shirt ripped him, another shirt he's lost and feels his arm pushed above him. He feels the cold cuffs and hears them click in place, fastening his wrist to the bedpost before the other one is clicked to the other post. He is stretched out, hovering just above the mattress with the unforgiving pull of his joints screaming at him. It's so tight he can't breathe, so shifts to his knees while he shakes and Nathan leaves him. Preparing himself for the worst._

_Oh God what is he going to do this time?_

_His ribs burn and he can feel the bruises forming. He's proud of the body under them - he has been loosing a lot recently - throwing up each morning and staying off foods. It's like the fat melts from him on those days and he can feel weightless after - if only for a while._

_He's ripped from his thoughts when there's a crack, and not a second later and he can feel an agonising burn across his back and screams._

_A ball gag is placed in his mouth, cutting off the cries_ _and the belt comes back down on him - scarring him more and more._

_\--_

On the third crack he wakes up - his mouth open with a soundless scream and sits up in a cold, stiff sweat. He pants: His breaths laboured as the dream provided excruciating detail and memory of the pain that night, the words said during it and the scars that to this day mark his skin. The first tears that fortnight fall and he's so disappointed; he's so sick of crying, he's so sick of waking up this way every single night. He's so sick of everything, of living, of bearing each day over and over again and doing nothing useful. Sick of only being able to speak when he's panicking and terrorised by mundane things that  _normal_ people can get over and  _sane_ people have no issues with.

He's so sick of feeling like shit all the time.

It's with blurred vision and fumbling hands that he makes his way to the bathroom, back of his hand wiping his eyes and biting on his other hands fist to stop the cries becoming too loud. He  _needs_ his blade. He  _needs_ to cut, and now, right now. When the door is open he lets out a wretched sound, saliva comes out with each sob and reminds him of how painful and awkward that ball gag was. It chokes him up even more as he fumbles around to find the drawer with his blades in it. 

He finds it, pulling it out and not paying attention to the noise it makes as its polymer body falls into the porcelain sink. To his horror he opens it up to find that the blades are gone. Missing. No longer there. In his desperation he pulls out the surrounding drawers and frantically looks for them, mouth agape in shock and more tears running down his face when he can't find them. 

He backs away just before his knees give out, falling to the floor. Hiding his face in his hands as he sobs, ragged noises escaping him as he cards his hands through his hair and pulls on it to feel something other than this. He's freaking out, he knows it, he needs to cut, he  _needs_ to. Nathans words are just too much and the memories burn him, searing into his mind and breaking him in a way that may not turn out to be reversible. He tugs down his sleeves, picking at the cuts from two days ago, ripping off in long pieces the scabs and feeling the welcomed pain with a hiss. It's not as satisfying but it will do for the time being. He cries as he works all the way down his right arm, picking, pulling, pinching and so on to tear at the skin. He forgets his rule of five in the crook of his elbow and extends all the way down to his wrist. Hiccuping and snotty as he kneels on the cold tiled floor.

He gasps in shock when he feels warm arms wrap around his torso, springing up in an attempt to get away from the intruder and pulling back down his sleeve to cover his bloodied arm. But these arms are too strong and he barely gets up on the balls of his feet before he's pulled back down into the persons lap. 

 _"shhh, shhh, shhh."_ A voice comes from behind, "It's ok Zayn, it's just me, it's just Liam." The voice says, and in his addled mind he finally draws the dots to each other, putting a face to the voice and feeling  _so fucking stupid._

 _I was too loud_ , he thinks, _probably woke Liam up with pathetic sobs and with this fucking breakdown_.

"Breathe Zayn, please breathe." One of the hands that wrap around him moves it to over his belly button. "See, just move my hand Zayn, you can do it." 

He focuses on what Liam says, seeing stars and getting dizzy from the lack of oxygen thats getting to his brain, inhaling in great shuddering breaths to push Liams hand away from him, occasionally spluttering or choking on the lump in his throat. Liams constant encouragements sounding in his ears. Things like "See, you can do it," "It's okay," and "good boy, well done." Simply encouraging him. "There you go,"

Tears still fall silently as he calms down his breathing. "Better?"

Zayn didn't respond - couldn't respond. He was too out of it. While still not being exactly calm but not in the troughs of despair either. Liam kisses the back of his head. "Well done Zaynie, well done." He says with a sniff and Zayn thinks that maybe Liam's crying.

_Oh God please no._

Liam reaches for something behind them, producing a towel that he lies in his lap before he pulls on his pyjama sleeves. He immediately stops the hand. Shaking his head  _no, Liam cannot see them._ He whimpers when it happens, feebly gripping the hem and pulling it taut. Despite the blood seeping through the fabric for some reason he still thinks he can hide it, deny it.

_Stupid Zayn._

"It's okay honey, it's ok." Liam shushes as he soothes the hand, massaging the back of them and letting it go limp before he pulls it away and pulls the sleeve all the way back.

Zayn looks at his arm, fully processing it. Each and every single available cut has been picked - the ones in between white thin scars that protrude the rest of the normal skin and are pinkish due to the blood that is thinly veiled over them. There are approximately thirty picked cuts and scabs bleeding.

"Oh Zayn." He hears Liam sigh, it sounds more sad than anything. He tries to pull the sleeve back but Liam grasps at his wrist. "Shush, shush, it's ok." He then gently presses the stark white towel to the bloody arm. Kissing at his temple when he does. "It's ok Zayn, it's ok." While rocking them side to side. "We're going to make it ok beautiful, we'll make it ok." Zayn turns into Liams chest, not fighting it anymore and hides his face there, crying into his collarbone and wetting the sleep shirt silently.

"I found them Zayn," Liam whispers, "and I threw them away." He pauses. "I had an inkling you were still doing this, I could see it in your eyes but I didn't want to make you any more uncomfortable and ask incase you weren't or you panicked." He whispers the words into Zayns hair softly. Still rocking them side to side. "I'm sorry I didn't get to tell you before you woke up feeling like this again and then couldn't find them." Liam clears his throat. "But guess what darling? I'm here now, and I'm not upset at you at all, I don't think I ever could be, even if I tried my very hardest."

Zayns cries are now quieting, he peeks up for a second from where he's hidden himself in Liam's collarbone but immediately hides again in shame. He feels so heavy, so drained and cold and lifeless. But Liam is  _there_ and Liam is holding him and he's not to cold anymore or so alone (even though he wants to be). He feels protected here and maybe he could be ok with that. But he's so confused because while he wants that he doesn't.

"Can you tell me what it was about honey?"

Zayn doesn't tell him, instead he decides he'll take a leap and doesn't fully think it through before he leans forward and pulls the back of his sleep shirt up enough to display his back to Liam. All 7 of the vicious, long, white scars that line the length of his back from that black belt Nathan always wore. He hears Liam gasp, a finger trailing at the protruding tissue on his back before the shirt is tugged back down and Liam's huge arms swallow him up again.

They're silent for another minute. 

"We need to get him out of your head Zayn." Liam says softly. Kissing him temple with moist lips. Now Zayn really thinks Liam may be crying. "Here beautiful, let me wrap them up and we can go back to sleep ok?" He nods, yes, sleep would be good, all he hopes is for no more nightmares.

Liam stands them up, supporting him with a hand under each elbow and walks them to the sink. He still feels like crying and a tear spills every now and again but its not much - he might've finally ran out of tears for once. He stands with his hips to the bowl and Liam standing directly behind him, his back to Liams chest because his knees are weak and may just give out again. It's strange to see how tall Liam has grown since he was with Nathan, Liam must be over a head taller than him now. With the saddened, bed-headed quiff of Zayns hair just brushing at the birthmark on his neck.

Liam gently pulls away the towel, now a murky reddy-brown because of the blood and turns on the tap. He tests the water before he gently guides his arm under the spray. It's warm, but not too warm. Just enough to not be cold but not hot enough to encourage bleeding. It stings and Zayns breath hitches, as a result Liam kisses the shell of his ear and they both watch as the water goes from brown to red to clear. Liam switches the tap off and presses the clean side of the towel onto his arm, making sure to apply gentle pressure, patting it down and inspecting the forearm every so often to check how it's doing. Zayn has to look away now, he's so ashamed.

It's a silent practice as Liam wraps him up. More kisses are pressed to his head and the shell of his ear. They're not sexual, none of this is of course, all purely sensual and calming. Zayn watches when Liam rummages in the cabinet, producing antiseptic cream. It stings when Liam rubs it into the cuts and he lets out a less-than-manly whimper and 'ah!' Liam kisses his ear again and shushes, slowing his pace down to be a lot more gentle. 

When its done, he produces a strip of gauze and a roll of bandage. Gently laying the gauze down and patting it so it would stay put before he gently but firmly unravels the bandage, wrapping it around his arm all the way from elbow to wrist, then back from his wrist to his elbow. He then cuts the badge and fastens it with a knot before securing it with a plaster over the top. 

"There we go." He says gently, wrapping his arms around Zayn again, who in turn feeds on the warmth it brings to his cold arms and torso. "That's better." He nods sleepily. "C'mon beautiful, lets get back to sleep." With one more kiss to his head he gently grips Zayns elbows again when they wobble and he shivers where he's stood. Then when they're turned around he stands to the left of him, one arm supporting his injured and now bandaged one with the other still firmly on his elbow, leading him back to the bedroom. He jerks the covers away and sits Zayn down on the edge before crouching down in front of him, taking his hands in his huge ones.

"Zee, can I ask you something?"

Zayn thinks for a moment, that Liams voice is like a stimulant, always coaxing him out of his hiding place, always something he listened to no matter what. He's slow and hesitant, but he eventually manages to lift his own head up with a sniff to look at Liam. Liams eyes are ringed with red and welling with tears, Zayn must look worse than he thought because Liam furrows his eyebrows and reaches his hands up to cup his head with one hand and his cheek with the other, thumbing the cheekbone and wiping at more tears that slip from him. His gaze flicks from Liams deep brown eyes to the hands and then to his bandaged arm, and then a spot next to Liams head and then back to Liams eyes. They're so deep, so enticing and intense. He can't look away now.

"Have you?" Liam bites at his lip, an expression Zayn can't figure out on his face. "Have you been able to think about seeing someone - like, professional?" Zayn manages to look away again.

In all honesty he hadn't really. But he does now. He turns it over in his head and thinks of everything the boys have said to him these past few weeks. How they've looked at him. He may seem a million miles away but he does pay attention to the way they study him. The way they think about what they say before they say it and hesitate in their actions.  

He nods and Liam lets out a long sigh of relief.

"Thank you Zayn." He says it with so much reverence. "Have you... come to a conclusion? Because I promise Zayn, I'll do all the work, you don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with or anything and I won't force you, neither will the boys." Liam looks so sincere and borderline desperate here that Zayn isn't sure he could refuse anyway. He nods.

"Is that.. Is that a yes? As in you'll see someone?"

He pauses, looking at his knees but he mutely nods again. He can play off a therapist, he can hide his secrets from them too, he can stand that - what he can't stand the looks on any of the boys faces of the desperation in Liams voice. It's like he genuinely wants Zayn to get help.

"Thank you, Zayn." Tears fall from Liams eyes and he kisses Zayns knuckles. "Thank you so much."

Zayn shuts his eyes and really concentrates on using his voice. He opens his mouth and while he lets out a garbled mess - again, he forces "N-n-no," out. He pauses, feeling a hand gently cup his cheek again. "M-Mu-Med-"

"Medicine?" Liam supplies. He opens his eyes and nods. "As in you don't want to go on medication?" He nods. His face feels very hot and flushed from talking now. He's glad Liam supplied an answer or they could've been there a while.

"I promise beautiful, no medicines. You don't have to go to a psychiatrist at all, but thank you so much Zayn, thank you." Liam gets up from his crouched position and hugs him. Hugs him so tight and cards a hand through his hair and runs a hand up and down his stiff spine.

"I'll get you the best Zayn, we all will I promise, just thank you so much. God you're so amazing, so incredible."

Liam lies Zayn down again, tucking him in and continuing to play with Zayns hair, thanking him and telling him he's so brave, so amazing. ( _Not brave, Not amazing_ , he thinks). Occasionally humming under his breath until he drops out of consciousness and into a deep, drained sleep. Before he falls completely though he can hear Liam sing softly under his breath. The soft words washing over him in the best ways and lulling him to sleep.

  

_You've got a heart as loud as lions_

_So why let your voice be tamed?_

_Maybe we're a little different_

_There's no need to be ashamed_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yes, a bit of a leap in time. About 2 and a half weeks after the last chapter but I hope it's ok!  
> I also realise it went from Zayns POV to no-ones POV. Whoops. 
> 
>  
> 
> Another note: Zayn mentions he's in control of the cutting and his purging. Thats what you believe in these situations (I unfortunately have experience) and you really don't.
> 
> If you ever need someone to talk to, send me a message or call a hotline.  
> Aus: 1300 22 4636 (beyond blue)  
> America/UK check here: http://psychcentral.com/lib/telephone-hotlines-and-help-lines/000173  
> Other Countries: I dont know, you'll have to look them up.
> 
> Please don't be afraid to talk to someone. It's life changing, I promise.


	8. Slightly Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam searches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry it's been a while, hope you all like though even if it is a bit of a filler chapter. Next and the following will be a lot better. 
> 
> Picture of the chapter:

**N I A L L**

When he arrived the next morning he was informed by Liam he was taking the day off.

Niall doesn't miss the bandages all over Zayns forearm. At first he doesn't question it. Instead, he approaches the sleeping form, caressing his cheek gently for a few minutes, and then asks "What happened?"

"I don't think it's for me to fully say," Liam sighs, "but long story short he relapsed, badly."  
  
"I thought you'd gotten rid of the blades you found?" He was confused, Louis and Harry had told them of what had been in his and Nathans flat. While it was all unspoken that Zayn wasn't going to stop like that and would probably keep cutting anyway. Liam had gotten rid of the razors he wasn't using. They knew it had been a bit too late when Liam had told them of one he found hidden on the shelf in Zayns room.

"I found more." Liam mentions sully, "and I got rid of them. But blades aren't the only way you can self-harm." It's a morbid tone to his voice and that makes Niall seriously want to question what had happened the previous night. 

At that moment Zayn began to stir. He stirred with a deep inhale, turning in his direction and sleepily blinking. He stands when Liam comes over with a pile of clothing in hand, obviously intent on taking up his place.

"Good morning beautiful." He hears Liam say softly, stoking a hand through his hair. 

A grumble comes from the bed and he sees Zayn curl into his side and bury his face into the pillow again.

"It's time to get up honey." A whine comes from the bed but after a minute he sees him weakly push up from the mattress into a sitting position. Bed-mussed hair and sleepy eyes blink about before they land on him. The man jumps from the sight of him. Although Niall knows he doesn't mean it he can help but feel a little wounded... How could they have gone so long without thinking something would be wrong? How could he have let it get this bad? Enough for Zayn to jump at the sight of him.

He wasn't blind. He knew he was the 'carefree' one of the group, the 'innocent' one. Despite his vulgar language and occasional crude and vile humour. Zayn must've gone through hell to be jumping at the sight of Niall at 8.22am on a Wednesday morning. 

That's a very heavy thought and it weighs on him all day.

 

**L I A M**

Breakfast is tough again. 

He had looked up example dieting plans for recovering anorexics and got an idea of what Zayn needed to be having. As well as an app that helped with calorie values and fat amounts. At first Liam started him off slow. 1200 calories a day for the first week and then upped it to 1300 the next two. This had stayed steady before continuing to 1350-1400 and at the moment it was 1400-1450. Liam didn't want to push Zayn nor his body. When Zayn had been starving himself his Basal Metabolic Rate had decreased exponentially. His body forgot how to digest food and began using not only stores of fat for energy, but then moved onto organ tissues, muscle and bones. Liam's first priority when it came to Zayns diet was to help him gain enough body fat to protect his inner organs and keep him warmer. Once that becomes easier to do and Zayn can do that without too much issue his intake can be upped again and then they can work toward resurfacing the suppressed metabolism. Of course, this was only internet research Liam had done. He would've gone to an expert nutritionist and dietary consultant sooner or later. But only when he and Zayn had built up a solid relationship and Zayn would know it's ok to trust Liam with this. He didn't want to push him. At all. That was one of the reasons why he was so relieved and happy that Zayn had said he'll try a therapist. Hopefully the one he'll find can help them both out with every issue that he knows is going to inevitably come. 

This morning, Zayn's breakfast was a bowl of muesli with a glass of milk and a cut-up apple. The dietary plan he'd looked up suggesting piece of spread of toast along with it and a glass of juice but Zayn already looked miserable enough with this and then it also seemed too much. 

Niall sits with Zayn at the table. Showing him something on his phone while Liam sets up both their foods. He has made sure that he always eats something just over what Zayn is and then some. So it'll hopefully be encouraging for him that he's going to be ok. He also aims to mix up foods. Hoping that that's somewhat stimulating. Yesterday Zayn's breakfast had been yoghurt and a pancake and a half with apple juice. Liam tired to encourage two whole ones but it was just too much and when Zayn stopped Liam could sympathise and understand.  

Liam remembers back to last night when he had woken up and hear sobs coming from across the halls. His heart broke into a million pieces because he knew that it may mean Zayn was trying to cut but since he had discovered them that morning he hadn't been able to talk to Zayn about it, and now; now Zayn was breaking down. It chipped away at his soul too.

He remembers peeking through the ajar door after preparing himself to see Zayn on his knees, furiously picking away at his arm while sobs shook his emaciated form. It broke Liam's heart to see him in such a state. He had quietly crouched down behind him. Pulling him into his lap and hoping to take the pain away. He remembers how Zayns body jumped under him, and how his weakened form tried to spring away from him.

_Have you ever seen a depressed anorexic try to flee from you?_

He holds him tight and holds him good, hushing him and hoping to calm his friend, placing a hand over the navel of his still too-shallow stomach and get him to breathe. His too light body struggling to inhale the breaths it was forced to take and damaged body working through it all. 

His brain goes off in a tangent and thinks back to when Zayn had just gained enough strength and mobility to get out of bed and walk about on his own. How one morning Liam woke up to his head resting on the empty. Yet partially made bed. It terrified him.

_Where the hell was he?_

Turns out, Zayn had gone into the Kitchen and was making breakfast for Lim (Note: For Liam).

_"Zayn?"_

_The black-haired man jumped, slightly spilling the Apple juice he had just been pouring. The result of this was exchanged panicked looks between the juice he had just spilled and was trying to mop up and him._

_"Zayn, Zayn, it's ok." The called on man took in a deep breath and nodded but Liam could see straight through him. He was terrified but putting on a strong face. Liam admired him for that._

_"Were you making_ _breakfast?" Liam takes a step forward and treads his water carefully, hoping the innocent question will spur a response. Zayn hesitantly nods. "Thank you." He wipes the surface where Zayn is still standing. "Where's yours?"_

_Liam turns to look to Zayn on his left who is now looking at his feet. A silence settles on them._

_Three._

_Two._

_One._

_Liam slowly moves and hugs Zayn, Zayn stiffens at first but eventually relaxes into his gentle hold. It's the first time he's been able to do that since the Hospital and Liams eyes well with emotion. They dont say anything from then on. Just finish preparing breakfast and making their way to the table._

He stops thinking when the milk is poured and he has to take out the food. Reminding himself everyday is a new day and today was day one since Zayn had relapsed. hopefully, there will never be another day one. But even if there is they will all work and hope to help Zayn push through and come through someday in the future. 

 

**L O U I S**

Something about Harry had changed in the past few weeks. Harry could deny it all he liked, but Louis knew him better than he knew himself most the time, and vice versa.

"Babe, you're killing me. What's up?" He asks. Currently, the two are eating dinner (spaghetti bolognese) and Harry stares down at him food, sighing at Louis' question.

Louis fully expects Harry to either ignore him or deny anythings wrong; just as he has for weeks now. Instead, Harry surprises him. "Zayn." Harry drops the fork, leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed over his chest and still not looking at him.

"What about Zayn?" 

Harry gives him a sour look.

"I mean." He sighs too. The subject of Zayn has been the elephant in the room for a while now. "I know there's a lot of things that aren't ok right now, but what's particularly bothering you?"

"Everything."

"Everything?"

"Particularly eating, I mean, we can do it so easy and he's suffering. He's so fucking malnourished Lou, have you seen it? I have. Remember? At the hospital. All we want is for him to feel safe now, but domestic things are terrifying him. He's so small Lou, remember how he used to be taller than you? Around mine and Liam's height? He's smaller than you now. He's literally shrunk in the two years we abandoned him-" He pauses because now he's fuming. "Literally shrunk not only in height and size, but in confidence and personality, and-"

Louis can tell Harry's beginning to get worked up now and Interrupts him. "-Harry, Harry, we have him back. He's going to be ok."

Harry gives him a sullen but hopeful look. "Are you sure?"

"How can we get him to feel confident in himself and his recovery if we aren't?" The question makes Harry's expression change. "We have to encourage him, remind him it's ok - remember what Liam's said in our calls? For while we're there? He's said safe, confident, happy, positive things. You getting upset over the past isn't going to change things. All we have now is the future and we will get him there babe, we will." By now Louis has moved from his seat to in front of Harry. "While I'm at it, Nathan can never hurt him again. None of us will let it happen, especially Liam. I know you would do anything to protect him from that monster as well, and that's a scary thought. I would do anything too and that goes for Niall as well. Now he has Liam, he has us. He's going to be ok."

 

  **Z A Y N**

Later on they're sitting on the sofa doing nothing in particular. Niall's off getting groceries so they can stay back and relax.

"Hey Zayn, erm. I've been meaning to give this to you." He sat up a bit straighter on the couch. Not quite sure what to expect. Liam reached over and produced a silver gift-wrapped box. Not small but not large, a rectangle and weighed a bit when it was placed in his hands.

His fingers trembled a bit as he pulled at the tape. Not liking it when paper rips. 

"It's not much," Liam went on to say when Zayn managed to open the case and found a iPhone 4 box in his hand. "But I hope you like it, I know you're not big on tech but you can put your music on it and stuff." He looked up, mouth agape. Why would Liam do such a nice thing for him? What made him think he had to do something so kind? Especially when sooner or later he knows he'll be kicked out since he's less than useless. 

"I haven't set it up -" Liam coughs into his hand, although it isn't genuine "here," Liam hands him a bit of paper with writing on it. "These are all the numbers I thought you may want to have. Like mine and the boys and then your parents and your sisters 'cause then you can text them instead of having to call and you can catch up without having to worry."

Zayn looks up from where he's feebly gripping the box. In too much shock at this gesture to really comprehend it. First shelter and care that he didn't even deserve, then art supplies and comics and now a phone. He can feel tears welling up but he doesn't want to cry even though he does.

(he gave up self-understanding a while back now).

The two are silent for a few minutes, he opens the box and looks through everything. Honestly, this means so much to him he's a little out of it. He looks up to Liam once more and hugs him. Full on, wrapping his arms around his neck and holding with all his might. Liam wraps his arms around his waist. He feels very self-conscious about it and must tense up because Liam moves his hands up his body away from his stomach to his rib cage. Gently patting his back. Liam sighs into the hug, nuzzling at his skin and he feels good. So, to become even more selfish he decides to just hold on. 

He manages to whisper out, so quiet he's not sure he said it, a "thank you."

Liam kisses his neck. "My pleasure."

 

\--

 

That night the boys come around for dinner again. While he manages to eat all food without falling flat on his face it's slow. Before they came around Liam asked him wether he was comfortable with telling the boys he was going to see a therapist. He nods his consent and Liam tells them. While he looks at his hands in his lap.

When he hears the sniff he looks up and sees Harry tearing up. "Can I..." The curly man stands, Zayn has to crane his neck to look at him. "Can I hug you?" Zayn swallows, but nods his head, looking away to Louis who is smiling so wide while Harry circles the table.

"I am so proud of you." Harry says as he's swallowed by him. How, with all his chub he doesn't understand and his mind drifts off to thinking maybe Harry's just bigger than him, but then scolds himself because  _look in the fucking mirror Malik._

Another pair of arms encircle him too. He only realises he closed his eyes when he opens them to the bleach blonde hair in the left hand corner of his vision. "Thank you." He hears the Irish man say and then Louis comes up too. They all go on to say at least 6 times each how proud they are of him and how they are there for him and  _anything you need Zayn. anything._

_Zayn can't help but think that if he was enough, if he was worth something, that they wouldn't have to tell him this and act this way around him._

He cries silently while thoughts of _you useless fuck_ and  _you don't deserve any of these boys_ plague his mind. Only ceasing when Liam comes round and pulls him into his lap - something he's oddly ok with - before carding fingers through his hair and soothing him with his gentle voice and soft hands.

 

**\--**

 

It takes Liam two days to find him a therapist. All the while at least one of the other boys are with them while Liam is glued to the screen of his laptop or his phone. Googling reviews and double checking all these psycologists before calling them and either crossing the number and name or not. He's not kidding, at one point he goes and sits next to Liam, overlooking what he's doing and his search history is so extensive he's a little worried as to what Liam is searching for. Of course, when he sits down Liam stops and gives him his undivided attention. Greeting him and asking how he's feeling. 

He lays his head on Liams shoulder as he calls up somewhere. He hears the two talking but cringes, he's not sure about a male psychologist if he's going to have one. 

"Ok, thank you very much, have a great day." Liam hangs up the phone and crosses out the number - The office sounded professional enough... why was it going in the 'no' category? There were so many crossed out compared to the not crossed out ones... What was Liam doing?

Liam must notice this somehow even without looking at him. "Sounded too cold over the phone." Liam explains and he shuffles a little in his spot. "I figured this is very much a one-shot thing and that if first time doesn't go well then you won't want to go again." There's another pause. "I won't have you going somewhere where the feel is clinical and emotionless. Louis and Harry told me about where you and he were living and I'm not going to get you a stiff uptight person to help you out."

He doesn't really think about why, but when he says that he looks down so his chin is in his chest and he smiles a bit. "Is that ok?" Liam asks quietly, he looks up - smile gone and nods. "Like, are you still ok with the idea of seeing someone because I'm not going to force you into anything. I can't anyway, they need your full consent before any appointment happens." He nods again, yeah, he's ok with that. Whatever makes Liam and the boys happy before he's inevitably figured out and sent away. 

(He will kill himself before that happens though - better dead than  _there._ )

 

When he does find her though he's in the kitchen, sitting on the workbench while Harry totters around the oven, adding random stuff into a bowl here and there and Zayn zones out into his head. Not paying attention while he subconsciously holds his stomach. Pinching at it and clutching it until he can feel the skin go raw under the fabric of his shirt. 

"Hey Zayn." He jumps like he's been shot when Liam comes around the corner and calls him. "Can you please come here a moment?" 

He nods, pushing himself off the counter and out of the kitchen to where Liam has been working all day in the living room.

Liam sits down with him, "I think I found someone." He says, straight to the point. He bows his head and nods. Chewing his cheek as he does. "But again, please, Zayn if you dont want to do this anymore you can always say no. She seems really great and I spoke to people that have been with her before or are with her now and they say she's really great. She's fun and helpful and really amazing with advice. She has experience with eating disorders and depression and stuff."

Zayn wishes he could speak then, deny he has an eating disorder because  _he does not._  Boys don't get that, neither do they get depression and he has no idea why Liam would say that because  _he doesnt have them_ and he gets lost in his head for a bit. Internally scolding Liam for thinking he could have either. Boys don't get those. All he is is just wrong and he doesnt deserve full meals or being treated like this. He deserves the wretched pain and agony that comes with cutting and fasting and purging. He just gives himself the punishment for what he deserves. 

Liam picks up his phone. "They won't let me confirm anything unless you give your consent. There are confidentiality issues of course so I can only do so much," Zayn gets the point and his throat constricts in an instant. It feels harder to breathe now, much less speak. He nods. 

"I told her it's a bit hard for you to speak at the moment and she understands. If you want I can leave you alone and you can try talk that way?" Liam suggests. Zayn wants to cry in relief it's a girl. He couldn't deal if it were a man - especially one like Nathan. Girls can sympathise with some things that guys just can't and-

"Zayn?"

Liam breaks into his thoughts, leaning over him on the sofa, not threateningly, holding the phone to him. He takes it and Liam takes his leave.

He takes a deep breath before putting the device to his ear, clearing his throat in the process.

"Hello is that Zayn?" Comes through the receiver. 

He nods before remembering that she can't see him. It takes him way too long to choke out "Ye-yeah." 

"Good evening Zayn, my name's Isabelle Dooley, Liam's just been talking with me saying how you'd like to set up and appointment. Is that correct?" Her voice is kind and warm. He thinks he likes her. She's the good kind of soft.

"Y-ye-y-es."  _God, you sound such a fucking idiot Zayn. Jesus._

"Ok, fantastic then. Liam already asked when we could set up an appointment and I suggested next Wednesday?" 

Today is Friday, that means five days from now, yes. He could prepare for that. He's about to summon up whatever voice he can but she beats him to it. 

"If you're finding it hard to talk Zayn I understand, something we can work on, ok? But for now instead of talking how about you click the button once for 'yes' and twice for 'no'?"

Zayn sighs in relief, yes, that would be so much better.

"Ok, so to confirm, do you want this appointment?"

_Blip._

"Are you ok for next Wednesday?"

_Blip._

"Have you been diagnosed with anything from any doctors?"

 _Blip Blip._ (His heart pounds at the thought of being diagnosed with anything).

"Ok then, thank you very much Zayn. We set up for 10am, are you ok with that?"

_Blip._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's not that great. I know I haven't updated in a while so sorry for that too.
> 
> Bit of a filler, got some more background and had some more stuff going on. Good Times. 
> 
> Also, the scene with Louis and Harry is meant to show that these things don't solely affect just the individual(s) but the community around them (so the boys and eventually family too).\
> 
> Hope you enjoy. Please comment your thoughts!


	9. Isabelle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The First Appointment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya, so this is one of the chapters I worked hard on. I hope you like it.
> 
> Now we're getting to the main plot and I can't wait.

**Z A Y N**

 

Zayn’s hands shake as they walk into the building reception that directs them to Dr. Dooley’s office; the clock in the elevator reads 09:56. Which means his appointment starts in 4 minutes. He picks at the grey sleeves of his sweater, the one that goes past his knuckles and below his waist. He likes this sweater because it’s baggy and doesn’t show off the chub that his stomach offers or the cuts that he constantly picks on his arms. He has his hair in a red beanie because he’ll be damned if he shows that constant birds nest in public and his black trousers are a little too clingy for his liking, but he’ll deal with it, because Liam bought him these clothes after moving in, and he’s learnt to appreciate what’s been given to him. Liam is standing next to him in the elevator, an arm loose around his waist to hold him and comfort him as they are taken higher and higher. Closer and closer to the place that’ll tell him how insane he is.

=

 

“Morning, my name’s Isabelle, and you must be Zayn?” She extends her hand which Zayn warily eyes before he takes. She doesn’t smile at him. Not in the fake, bright, overly peppy sense, but she does give him a warm expression; her eyes glinting with genuine pleasure to meet him, which confuses him slightly. He nods and responds with a small shaky tug of the lips but then she moves on to Liam, also identifying him by his name which is a little strange given they’ve never met face-to-face. But then again it wouldn’t be hard to tell the sane one out of the two of them, it wouldn’t be hard to tell the healthy one from the unhealthy one and it certainly wouldn’t be hard to identify _Zayn_ from _Liam_.

Before he can really take in the room he’s in, the hand on the small of his back thumbs the skin a little until he notices that Liam’s after his attention. He looks up at him and Liam’s smiling at him. He looks proud and happy. He cups Zayn’s cheek with his other hand, telling him; “I need to go now, but I’ll be waiting in the parking lot if you need me. Is that ok?” Zayn nods. He knows this; they’ve been over it already today. Liam’s lips tug a little and he places a soft kiss to the top of his head before walking out the room, looking over his shoulder one last time before exiting.

He turns around and Isabelle is standing not far from him, writing down some note. She looks up, flicking her dirty blonde hair out of her face and smiling, “So, welcome.” She says, glancing down quickly again to finish the note before standing up straight. Tying her hair up in a loose ponytail after gesturing to a couch that she has set up in the room, opposite a single chair that he knows is hers. Telling him, “please sit down.” He doesn’t say anything but does as he’s told. He’s half convinced Nathan will jump out with some restraining device or material and tie him to the couch but he takes a breath and remembers, _he’s not here and he’s ok._

Isabelle flicks on a black kettle she has in the room. “Do you like tea?” Zayn nods because she looks up and he’d rather not look like a stuttering mess of an idiot already. “Would you like one?” He shakes his head. “Anything else then? Maybe water?” He shakes his head again and shyly holds up his own water bottle. Bought in case his stupid stomach decides it wants supplement that he neither needs nor wants again.

She sighs, but it's not aggravated or disappointed, it’s almost relaxed as she sets down her mug and sits down in her chair. “So, Zayn, first I need to inform you of certain things to do with these sessions. First I need to tell you that I have a notepad - it’s not anything serious, it’s just for me to jot down things that are important and to remind us of what the session before was about as well as keep us up to date on progression.” He nods mutely when she pauses, almost as if for permission. “I am held by law from discussing anything that we talk about, unless there is immediate danger to yourself or another and even then I have to inform you and only the necessary people would be told anything and nothing that isn’t relevant.” He squirms because he can imagine the number of things deemed ‘relevant’ should she find out how wrong he really is. Where he belongs. “That being said, when Liam was assigned to your file that means I keep him updated on your progress and give him advice for between sessions. Not discuss specific points that we talk about.” She doesn't say it in a sharp way. She says it in a way that he thinks is meant to help him feel comfortable and warm. It confuses him why she’s being kind to him when it’s obvious he’s a disgrace.

She sighs. “So what can I do for you today?”

He looks up from where he had been fiddling with his fingernails to see her lounging leisurely in her chair.

He opens his mouth to speak but he’s not sure what to say or how to say what he thinks he wants to say. He’s entirely convinced that he looks like a fucking guppy fish and claps his mouth shut so he doesn’t say anything stupid. Admit to anything that will land him in some rehabilitation centre or mental hospital. He chances a look at Isabelle again to see her patiently waiting for him, as if they have all the time in the world and no, this is not awkward at all. Tension weighs on his shoulders and he wishes Liam were here. Maybe he’d be able to talk for him or maybe he’d know that Zayn couldn’t afford to talk about his issues because he’s so fucked up and-

“Are you into art at all?”

The question peaks his interest and he looks at her like _‘how did you know?’_ But then he gives her a small nod.

“I figured.” She says, sitting up in her seat some. Lifting the mug to take a sip. “You have some very interesting tattoos.”

Zayn didn’t even realise his shirtsleeve had ridden up. Revealing up to the ‘ZAP’ tattoo and hurries down to cover himself up, clenching the material of the sweatshirt in his fist easily because it’s oversized and goes past his knuckles anyway.

“I have some too, see.” Isabelle holds out her arms; the inside of her left wrist and right forearm held across her chest. He leans forward a bit with his hands in his lap and sees the words ‘ _never let life kill your spark._ ’ On her wrist and he sees four birds flying down the outside of her right arm. He sees the tattoo claiming _‘never let life kill your spark’_ covers scars, similar to the ones he has.  
“I have more but that means I have to take off my shoes and I’m not sure you want to see me lift up my shirt for the side of my ribcage or shoulder. Not yet anyway.”

Zayn averts his gaze to fiddle with his hands again because he doesn’t know how to respond at the moment.

“Do you like music?” She asks. Zayn nods his head, because yeah, he does. “Do you play anything?” He shrugs. She giggles a little, and it’s not like a mean giggle or that she’s laughing at him. It’s a lovely giggle. “What does-“ she imitates his shrug “-that mean?”  
He smirks a little and shrugs again, but then he holds out his hand and holds his thumb and index finger an inch apart, to say a little.  
Isabelle hums, “and what do you play?”  
Zayn imitates playing a piano and it’s a little ridiculous so he huffs an exhale as if he were amused by this.

He meets her eyes again and she’s smiling at him. “I must say, I enjoy listening to the-“ and she imitated playing a piano like Zayn had. “Maybe you’ll have to play for me sometime.” He hides by looking down in his lap and plays with his nails again, shaking his head no because he hasn’t done it in years.  
“You know, playing musical instruments and singing has proven to be quite an effective method of therapy. I bet you have a fantastic voice, you look like you would.”  
Zayn blushes, and feel the tips of his ears go red. Nope, he hasn’t sung in years, and honestly doesn’t plan on it soon either because who would want to hear _that?_

He opens his mouth to speak again, because he wants to ask why she’s not interrogating him. Finding out everything that’s wrong with him and doing whatever it is that therapists do. But he looks like a fish again and just shuts his mouth.

Isabelle stands up, and for a moment he thinks maybe she plans on storming out the office they’re in, shouting out he’s too much already! Finally losing her patience with him. But instead he’s a little startled when she kneels in front of him with a small, A4 sized whiteboard and four coloured whiteboard markers; red, black, blue and green. He recognises them as the same type from his old high school, he remembers his teachers getting them confused with the permanent markers they also had and furiously scrubbing the marks off the board with the rubber end of the pen. Taking forever on the wall-sized board.

He carefully reaches out for the black one, adjusting it in the hand over the whiteboard feebly when Isabelle pulls away. He’s obviously meant to communicate with it, and looks up at Isabelle for confirmation. She sits back down in her chair and cocks her head towards the board to encourage him.

_Why aren’t you interrogating me?_

He pauses before holding it up, a little afraid of the reaction this may provoke from the woman in front of her.

“Would you like me to?” She asks, he shakes his head because no.

“Then why do you ask?”

He shrugs before rubbing out and writing:

_Because isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?_

He feels a little bit embarrassed as he questions her job description, but she doesn’t seem to mind. She’s quiet for a moment so Zayn looks up. She’s resting her hand on her chin.

“I don’t read the hospital files just so you know.”

Zayn furrows his eyebrows and scribbles out: _why?_

She inhales a deep breath and says, “Well, because hospitals are hospitals… and they’re great with healing people bodies, but that doesn’t mean they know what their talking about when it comes to peoples minds.” To emphasis the point she presses a finger to her temple. “Hospitals are also great at giving biased accounts, for example; this client needs this type of medication because he/she must be depressed or this person is insane and needs to be dealt with. I’m not interested in other people’s opinions, I’m interested in getting to know you, and how you feel and what you have gone through. What you are comfortable with sharing, when you want to share it rather than someone telling me this has happened at this point in time and the result is this injury.”

Zayn’s a little shocked, but he’s ok with this. He knows now that she doesn’t know how fucked up he must be. Where he really belongs and that lifts some weight off his shoulders.

_But still, you’re not asking anything to do with what's gone on._

Isabelle seems to contemplate her answer for a moment. “It’s usually very hard to bear your soul to someone you don’t know well. Trauma runs deep Zayn, and sometimes you need someone that knows you least a little bit to help you out. Not to mention, a certain level of trust has to be built to break down your walls. I trust, that when you’re ready, and only when you’re ready: whether its today, next week, next month. That you’ll tell me what’s going on in that head of yours. Liam, after you gave him permission told me you have recently been in an abusive relationship. But that’s all I wanted to know from him, because it was you who was there. Not him, and that’s literally all I know apart from the fact your name is Zayn. On the contrary, when that trust is built up, I hope that you will be able to trust me with whatever it is going on or whatever has gone on and trust me to be a part of what helps you get through it. Even if it takes years, we can do that Zayn. Together.”

He’s taken a back from that for a moment. Letting it settle. A small thought and flicker of hope perks. She sounds so real, so genuine that maybe she could help him, help him feel not wrong and maybe a lot more whole. He squashes it quickly. it’s useless to hope. Useless and painful to try. He responds with the only thing he knows to respond with.

_Malik._

Isabelle looks a little confused, so he rubs it out and tries again.

_My name is Zayn Malik._

She smiles because it’s a start, “And mine’s Isabelle Dooley, How do you do Zayn Malik?”

Zayn freezes. How does he do? He’s really not sure. Isabelle seems to sense this and tells him about herself. She tells him she’s married. Has been for a year and a bit now, and that her husbands name is Mark and he’s a surgeon, dealing with trauma injuries. She loves horses and thinks that Dr. Pepper is the best soft drink ever. She tells him that when she was young her parents were both alcoholics and divorced; leaving her to care for her younger sister Grace and they lived out of a suitcase. She got bullied a lot which lead to her having depression. She says she knows he’s seen the scars on her wrist but not the ones on her calves or her hips.

She tells him she listens to all types of music, from heavy metal and hardcore to easy listening and hip-hop. She says rom-coms are overrated and that she likes to think she can paint but she absolutely can’t with a chuckle and that she has arachnophobia and coulrophobia, the fear of spiders and of clowns.

(Zayn decides she likes this woman, but then he gets trapped in the stubborn part of his brain thinking _you stupid fuck, you decided you liked Nathan and where did that get you huh?_ )

All he can really bring himself to write out is that he _can’t swim_ and he agrees _Dr. Pepper is pretty epic_. She smiles and says “well then, we should have one sometime.” He nods, although he has no intention of ever really doing it.

“So,” Isabelle looks towards the clock and pats her knees. “These sessions, while they may not seem it at first are actually very draining. I know I’ve talked on about myself and my experiences and not much about you but if you want to, we can call it a day now. However, if you’re ok I would like to continue for a bit more?”

Zayn shrugs, it’s not like he’s dying to leave. He doesn’t mind her.

She smiles at him. “So what else can you tell me about yourself?”

He zones for a seconds and bites his lip. Wondering what he could tell her. He takes a deep breath and writes:

 _My middle name is Javvad,_  
_My birthday is 12th January,_  
_I don’t like scary movies._

She takes this in. “I don’t like scary movies either.” But then he brings the board back into his lap and rubs it out, taking a deep breath before he writes his next sentence.

_His name was Nathan._

He shakily lifts it up and shows it to her. “Your ex?” she asks to clarify, he nods his head. “Thank you for telling me Zayn.”

He nods and writes: _what else do you want to know?_

“Did he hurt you?” She asks softly.

He nods.

“Often?” Nods again.

“How often?”

 _nearly every day_.

“How did he hurt you?”

Zayn feels his eyes glass over a moment and writes two words:

_every way._

Isabelle hums.

_I deserved it though._

He needs to add that on because otherwise she may just think Nathan was completely abusive. He really wasn’t. He was just looking out for Zayn. He doesn’t hear whatever it is that Isabelle says after that, he zones out out reality not his own world.

He thinks about the beginning of their relationship. How happy everything was. Licking ice cream off each other’s faces, doing silly dares that lead to strip teases and messy make outs to even messier blowjobs. Taking silly pictures and introducing each other to friends and family, living life and not having a care in the world. (He doesn’t notice he’s zoned out completely, that he’s sunk into the couch and now Isabelle is moving to go do something in the background.)

Then things started to get bad, not all at once, but the insults started and some yelling. But by the time he picked it up it was, it was just too late. He notices Isabelle’s hand waving in front of his face, with a soft _‘hello?’_ He snaps out with a shiver and only notices he cried a bit when Liam appears in front of him, wiping the stray tear with his thumb.

“Hey Zayn.” Liam’s voice is like honey to a sore throat, it’s like rain over dry soil and it’s like a ray of light through the clouds. “You ready to go home?” Zayn sniffs and then he nods, because, yeah, he gets what Isabelle meant by draining now. Liam helps him stand up and gives him a hug.

“You did well Zayn, I’ve met people who took weeks to get to where we got to today, so well done.”

  Zayn’s not sure how to respond to that, so he nods. Isabelle gives him another smile. “Take it easy ok? It’s perfectly normal to feel a bit shaky and confused after these sessions.” He’s giving up on understanding himself and others so he just nods and lets himself be led out by Liam whose now got an arm around his shoulders and is giving him an encouraging squeeze.

They’re silent until they get on the road. It’s raining out so Liam produced an umbrella he brought with him at the door and leads them out to the car. He opens the door for him and lets him get in before going around to the drivers seat and getting in himself; cranking up the heater in the already-warmed car. He starts the ignition and starts the ride home before he says anything.

“Thank you.”

Zayn’s a little taken back again and Liam already seems to know this, so he continues. “Thank you for giving this whole therapy thing a shot. I know maybe you didn’t want to but you went today and Isabelle says you did really well. I’m so proud of you,” and he reaches across the console to take his hand in his and rub his thumb over his knuckles.  
“You could’ve gone in there and said nothing,” (which Zayn winces at cause he kind of did say nothing.) “But not in the sense of staying completely silent. You could’ve gone in and stamped your foot saying no, but you went in there and you tried, and she said you did really well for the first session.” Liam pauses as they get to a junction. But carries on after they’ve passed it. “I would’ve been proud of you even if you did that, even if you did go in, refused to say anything, ignored her, heck, left 5 minutes after you got in. But you stayed in more than you needed too and you tried. So thank you beautiful.”

That's a new thing that's been happening recently. Liam, while he used to say 'honey' and gorgeous' has now evolved onto also calling him 'beautiful' or 'darling.' Zayn looks at their intertwined hands and is amazed at how Liam’s hand is so much bigger than his, how it could almost wrap it up completely, each calloused, long digit soft and gentle.

It’s still raining when they get back, so Liam asks Zayn to give him a moment and he comes round to Zayn, opening the door again because he is just such a gentleman and treats Zayn much better than he deserves. Holding up the umbrella so Zayn won't get wet at all and they walk to the door together, he shivers from the cold and Liam holds him tighter.

Liam opens the front door and places a hand on the small of his back and leads him in through. When they get in he sags a little when Liam shakes the brolly off and leans it against the side of the now-shut door.

He stands there for a little, still zoned and not sure how he feels after that, because he thought he’d hate it. He was so nervous but then it turned out ok and he kind of really wanted to hate it because then it would be easy to keep his actual mental stability on the down-low. But Isabelle was lovely and relatable, he doesn't know how to accept that. Something he notes is that he doesn’t feel any better about himself (and isn’t that the point of any type of therapy?).

Liam stands in front of him, rubbing his upper arms to warm them until he realises and looks up at Liam. “Come on gorgeous, you look exhausted.” Liam kisses his forehead and he nods, cause yeah. He’s really quite tired now and Liam leads him to the couch, setting him down before he grabs and random movie and puts it in the DVD slot. Grabbing the remote and moving back towards him on the couch. He sits down on his right and places and arm around him, pulling him down gently so his head is now on Liams lap. It’s nice, when Liam grabs the blankets on the back of the sofa and lets it fall over Zayns legs and up to his shoulders. It’s lovely when Liam starts playing with his hair and feels himself relax fully.

He’s asleep within the first 20 minutes of the film starting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, please comment your thoughts and leave kudos.


	10. The First Step

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam takes his first active step in helping Zayn move on, and Zayn really really wishes he could do more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, thanks so much for support - sorry for not uploading sooner i have a shit tonne of work to do and as a result the next chap or chap after will be massive (i've been working on it in any scrap of spare time). 
> 
> Dedicated to serrie_s for their lovely comment. 
> 
> Picture of the chapter:

**3 DAYS LATER**

**L I A M**

_Ring_

_Ring_

_Ring_

_"Hello?"_

_"Hello there, Liam?"_

_"Yes, is that Isabelle?"_

_"Yes it is, I'm just calling to update you on the previous session I had with Zayn and give you some advice for between now and next week."_

_"Oh yeah! Thank you, please go on."_

_"Fantastic, but before I do I just want to clarify, has Zayn ever been int art at all?"_

_"Oh yeah, he's amazing. A regular Da Vinci at it, he was actually in school for it but I don't know what happened with that."_

_"Ok, I was just asking because mediums such as Art and Music have been proven to be very effective forms of therapy, listening to some types of music can actually be better than therapy itself. Do you have any art stuffs with you?"_

_"Erm, not much but I can definately get some."_

_"Yes, I strongly recommend that. That being said if he hasn't done it for a while and suffered extreme trauma which he obviously has then there may be an initial period where he may actually be scared to pick up a paintbrush or a pencil. Then after that I can imagine that the fear will be of what the final product will be and that is likely to be extremely dark."_

_"Okay then,"_

_"Also, I need to ask wether there are any items or such in the house that obviously make Zayn uncomfortable?"  
_

_"Er, I'm scanning our living room now and I can't see anything of the sort, nothing comes to mind."_

_"Ok, well I should let you know that the more warm, vibrant and colourful the environment is then the better chance for recovery."_

_"Yeah I thought that would be the case. Nothing cold or relating to where he used to live is really here."_

_"Fantastic. Now, you mentioned his issues with eating on the first phone call we had and while I can't officially diagnose him as of yet I think it's safe to say that he definitely suffers from anorexia nervosa and depression. Do you agree?"  
_

_"Yeah, I did some research and stuff and I reckon that's unfortunately the case."_

_"Yes, I believe he is suffering from Acute Stress Disorder, its similar to PTSD but that can't be diagnosed unless symptoms persist for at least a month. He probably suffers common nightmares and often zones out and cuts himself off on occasion, extending up to becoming extremely irritated. I want to let you know this is all normal and if he has a panic attack there is a high chance that's because there is a trigger somewhere nearby or he has been reminded of particular events. Triggers can be anything from actions he deems threatening to certain objects or people. In Zayn case I advise he doesn't go anywhere near his old apartment or places he and Nathan used to visit or anything else that reminds him of Nathan."_

_"Thank you, I was anyway but I didn't know about PTSD."_

_"Well if you need any more advice you can search online, beyond blue is a great website - very detailed and has excellent coping techniques."_

_"Alright, i'll be looking that up then."_

_"Brilliant, now I need to ask about eating habits, have you got a plan of some sort?"_

_"Yeah, I wanted to ask you about that, I have got one that I made - can I bring it next week?"_

_"Yeah of course, please do."_

_"Awesome."_

_"Well, Liam, just keep doing what you're doing and I'll see you two next week."_

_"See you Isabelle, thank you."_

\------

That day Liam makes sure to go out and get the required art stuff that Isabelle suggested. He's on his way back from work and Zayn is back home with Harry at the moment. He stands in front of the endless shelves in this art store he googled, but he doesn't know art for shit. That's Zayns bit. Always has (and should) be. He racks his brain in an attempt to remember what Zayn used to get back when they were kids and before well... yeah. He remembers canvas's and sketch books, so that's where he starts. Resulting in A4 and A3 sketch pads going into the cart. Next are pencils - he always remembers Zayns blackened fingers and this one time where Niall touched one of his drawings only for Zayn to go off on about _oil stains on the canvas Niall! You can't do that!_  Next in are a pack of graphite pencils with some H - B scoring system that he doesn't understand.  
Finally, paint. Now, he wanders around and a store worker he passes by mentions something about watercolour and acrylic, but he doesn't know what either mean for shit. So he analyses the packs in front and ends up getting both a watercolour and acrylic set, but he has no idea if they're the right ones. 

He purchases the items and takes the shop's card, leaving the store with the sound of the bell and a _"have a nice day!"_  Called out after him. 

When he gets back home he's greeted with the sight of Zayn wrapped up in a checkered red and black blanket on the sofa with a book in his hands. He doesn't recognise the book and assumes it's something Harry's bought with him. He calls out he's home and Harry responds with an "Hola!" From the kitchen.

Zayn looks up at his for a brief moment and when Liam's taking off his shoes he notices Zayns untangling himself from his blanket shield and walking over to him stiffly with his arms crossed. When he's bent over Zayn comes over and stands until he done undoing his shoes and Zayn takes off his coat for him, hanging it on the hook behind the door. When Zayn goes to take his bag for him Liam stops him with a hand gripping gently at his wrist. The contact makes Zayn jump and freeze up, so he loosens it and uses his over hand to cup at Zayns face. 

"You ok darling?" He asks, he gets a nod in return. "Are you sure?" Another nod, but there's no eye contact, so Liam knows he's not. Zayn probably believes that he needs to act in front of him again. He purses his lips and slowly moves to hug him, Zayn is freezing, even having just been in the blanket he can feel the ice that are his hands, and now he's suppressing shivers under Liams touch. 

"C'mon gorgeous, let's go back to the sofa. I've got something for you." Liam doesn't catch Zayns expression but by the way he hesitates to move with him he can imagine Zayn's confused. 

When Zayn's sat down Liam wraps him loosely in the blanket again and crouches in front of him. He notices that Zayn got no socks on and that maybe he needs to get a different, thicker pair of jeans for him. Zayn himself cautiously eyes him. His countenance supposedly relaxed but Liam has known him long enough to know he's really not. 

"Isabelle called me and she told me it's a great idea to try get your mind off things in once in a while and so we thought that art may be a great thing for you to go at." He brings out the sketch pad from the bags. "I went out and got you these... I have no idea if they're the right ones or not but I hope they're ok." He looks up as he hands the sketch pads over, the smaller one on top of the bigger one and it's then he sees Zayn's face. 

Utter Shock.

He thinks, for one terrifying moment that Zayns about to have one of his panic attacks, that he's triggered him in someway. But no, Zayn just sits there, mouth agape in utter, utter shock as Liam slowly pulls out the others. "It's not much, but maybe something to get you started, I remember how much you used to love it, but that being said if you don't like it or want to that's fine." All Liam hopes for is that his expression is sincere right now. 

But then, just as Zayns staring at everything in his lap thats when Liam realises. "Oh shit! I forgot paintbrushes!" He feels so stupid right then but it's all worth it when he hears a snort come from above him and it takes him a minute to realise Zayn just laughed at him. 

He catches a small amused look on Zayns face for all of a millisecond and then it vanishes. He only realises that it's because of his face, and he doesn't want Zayn to think he can't laugh at his expense so he cracks a smile, genuine, and laughs at himself too. Zayn doesn't laugh this time but he stops looking so worried and that's all Liam needs right now. Zayn's staring back at the art stuff in his lap and seems awed by it, but Liam can also see he's scared, he's not sure what of but he knows Zayn, and he knows that look.

Zayn shifts the stuff on his lap, picking it all up and moving it to his left before sliding off the couch onto his knees and slowly, he can see the expression on Zayns face as he slowly moves to hug him. 

It's now Liams turn to be shocked. This is the first time this has happened since the hospital. 

He hears a small sniff and that's when he wraps his arms around Zayn. Neither of them speak, neither of them need to. So Liam pulls them back and sits himself cross legged with Zayn in his lap before pulling the blanket down so he can place it on Zayns shoulders. He makes a mental note to add an extra duvet to Zayns bed that night so he can have two from now on and then there's no chance of him being cold. (It has been noticed that Zayn shivers in the night, Liam always assumed it was nightmares but now he thinks maybe it's not).  

"Are they ok?" He asks quietly. Wanting to make sure, and in response is a lot of nods. Liam lets himself be proud and rubs his hand over Zayns spine. Breathing in the moment and letting them relax. 

\------

**Z A Y N**

He stares down at the supplies before him when Liam goes off to make supper with Harry. He loves them, he really really does. It's like a second nature to him but it's been  _so long._ So long since he last drew anything or was able to admire it.

_Another mistake made, another mistake paid he realises as he tugs at the cables ties done too tight around his wrists, enough that they dig into the meaty flesh of his arm and cut into him. They don't stop at just his wrists, no, there are multiple going up his arm, before and after his elbows, his forearms and more for luck, all so tight they burn with pins and needles. His arms are pulled out as if he's crucified and the bit of wood that acts as the cross is heavy, so heavy. He's on his knees with his mouth taped up and it's crushing him. He screams. But it's not because of the immeasurable physical pain this is giving him. It's because of the sight he is witnessing. He watches as Nathan stares down at him, absolutely furious with a cigarette in-between his lips and a lighter in his hands. Behind him are what's left of his work - the rest already destroyed. He watches in agony as Nathan rips up every piece of paper, stabs and snaps each canvas, breaks every chalk and charcoal. He watches as Nathan holds the lighter up to the shredded bits of paper that are now piled in the middle of the basement floor inside a rock-made circle and sets it alight. Canvas bits are thrown on top and then his pencils. His paintbrushes are used to stoke bits and then thrown on too, along with the paints and everything else. Tears roll down his face. He's just thankful that the pieces he did before he moved in with Nathan are safe at his parents house. (but then again he is shit, he always though he was good but no, Nathan showed him the truth as per fucking usual). It doesn't matter to him that he stopped doing art months ago. He was done with how Nathan told him it was 'shit' and 'bloody useless'. He gave up just like Nathan wanted him to but he didn't ever imagine Nathan might burn it and his chances of ever doing it again._

_His stomach flutters restlessly. His heartbeat is erratic and he's hyperventilating through his tears. His back is killing him and it's bloody cold without a shirt on down here._

He snaps out of the memory with tears rolling down his face as Liam walks in. The pencils are laid before him but he has no idea what to draw, what to do and he can't stand the lack of motivation. Liam notices his state and immediately comes forward. "Beautiful, what's wrong?" He shivers under the blanket and this is such a juxtaposition compared to when he was first given the supplies. 

_God you're so useless._

It's then he notices how terrified he is to pick up a pencil and draw, how terrifying it is to pick up the brush and do anything. 

"You know..." He hears Liam say. "If this is scaring you-" (How the heck does Liam know that?) "-then it's ok. If you don't want to do this then you don't have to. It's all up to you. You can do whatever it is you want to." 

He shakes his head, because  _no, he wants to. He really does._

"Ok, well it's going to take time, ya know? And that's ok."

He stares at the paper and this burning shame courses through him. 

_Always such a useless idiot, Liam got this for you. But you are never going to be - never have and never will be good enough or talented enough for anything, anything at all._

He feels so heavy and down that the just wants to curl into a ball and sleep and never wake up. Ever.

_Ever._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's short. My friend died last Friday so i'm feeling quite shit. Please keep him in your prayers.


	11. Isabelle 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to cry bc of all the typos and auto-corrections that have been made so far in this story. I'm so sorry - i'll go back and edit again when i've finished this or something. 
> 
> Sorry it's been a while. Next chap will be huge to make up for it!

The next time he sees Isabelle he’s sitting on the couch again and she’s offering him a can of Dr. Pepper. She greets him like last time, with that smile, and he returns it feebly. Liam tells him he’ll be waiting downstairs and wether that’s ok. He nods, Liam kisses his forehead and he’s left in the office once again. 

“So, Zayn.” Isabelle takes her seat. “There’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about today if that’s alright?”

Zayn nods.

“Do you know what anorexia is?”

Zayn nods again: Basic stuff from school.

“And what are the signs of anorexia, or what a sufferer may commonly feel?”

Zayn shrugs. He didn't pay that much attention to it in school. What he does know is that it’s a mental disease where sufferers do not eat because they believe that they are not good enough. Like an extreme diet where the person is not in control. He also knows that boys don’t get anorexia. Only girls do as far as he’s been told.

“What about depression?"

He gives the same response. Boys don't get that. 

“Can you tell me Zayn about what you see in the mirror?”

Zayn looks in his lap. _What does he see in the mirror?_

It takes him a while because there’s so much he can say. He could easily lie and brush his self-esteem off or he could be truthful about how he feels. He shrugs. Not really sure how to answer.

“Ok then, how do you feel about yourself in general then?”

She asks in this tone that he’s not so sure about. He feels like she's scouting for the excuse to throw him into a mental institute. He can't do that, he’d sooner die than go there. He shrugs again, avoiding eye contact.

There’s a short, and uncomfortable silence on his part when she makes a note.

“Do you find it hard to look at people in the eyes?” She asks and he nods. He will not lie again after that time he lied to Nathan. God, he feels so uncomfortable right now, he crosses his leg over his knee and brings his hands up to rest under his chin, avoiding looking at her in any way. Why he feels uncomfortable is unknown to him. He just does with all these questions.

“Did you know that if you look between someones eyes, at the bridge of their nose it looks like your looking them in the eye to the person you’re looking at?”

He shakes his head, he didn't know that but he’s not about to try it out, zoning out into his own little world. He flinches when he sees her kneeling in front of him with the whiteboard and pens again. He was so lost in his own world he hadn't noticed her get up and get something on his behalf. He feels guilty but reaches a timid hand out for the board. Selecting the red pen this time and laying them in his lap while Isabelle sits down again.

“What kind of art do you like?”

He looks up at that, if only for a moment and writes on the board _most kinds._

“Can you draw a human body?”

He nods and does it right there and then. It’s not a fantastic drawing, but it takes him a while - the lack of practice and it's funny how good drawing feels, like a weight off his shoulder and especially since his attempts at doing anything art-related this week. He takes the liberty of adding eyes, a set of abdominals and sculpted arms and legs, but no mouth - he couldn't decide for a smiley face or linear, so he leaves it blank. Holding up the board he feels a little exposed - his talent was very little before and now it’s less. 

“That’s really good,” She compliments him and he blushes, shaking his head - it may as well be a stick figure. “It is.” He shakes his head again and hides behind the board. He hears the scratch of her pen and notices she’s taking notes again.

“Is that your ideal body shape?” She asks, he nods - yeah, he’d kill to look like that, finally, the voices may shut up about his physical appearance and he’d never be ridiculed by anyone ever again for it. 

But he’ll never have that, he’s eating now, and gaining. Getting heavier and heavier and it's apparent now. He can feel it attach to his limbs and body, an irreparable force pushing down on him and puffing him out further.

“What are areas of your body that you dislike right now?” Thats a strange question, “Circle them.”

He stares at the board before him and glances down at his repulsive body. Taking the pen, he circles the entire thing and holds it up.

“Everything?” Isabelle asks. He nods. “Is there anything in particular?”

He flips the board again and circles his head, thighs, stomach, shoulders and ankles.

She leans forward when he flips around again, “Is that all?” She asks and he cringes internally, squirming where he sits - yeah, he knows his body is fucked and that that shouldn't be all. 

“What about, say your ass?” He goes beet red but nods.

“What's your mothers name?”

That takes him by shock too. He rubs the board and writes _Patricia._

“That’s a lovely name,” he nods, “is she very beautiful?” 

He nods again, writing _the most._ It makes him blush, the way she smiles at him after, and he hides his face again. There’s another pause. 

“Zayn,” She says in her soft, warm voice. “Did you hate those body parts before you were with Nathan?”

He looks at her, trying the look-between-the-eye thing. Woah, it kinda does work.

_I didn’t realise them, no._

She writes something down on the pad in her lap. “If you had the choice, how many calories a day would you consume?”

_Zero._

“Why zero?”

_Look at me._

“I’m looking.”

_Then you should be able to see._

“See what?”

 _Then you should know that’s a stupid question._ He holds it up and immediately regrets it. 

_I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to call you stupid._

“It’s fine Zayn, thank you for your honesty.” She doesn’t say anything for a moment. “On the phone before our first appointment Liam mentioned you have issues with eating. Is that true?”

He nods, maybe not _issues._ But he certainly doesn’t need to eat. With the fat he has he could probably go years without food and not be in danger. 

“What do you have against eating?”

He stares around the room, not wanting to look at her (even if it is between the eyes) or respond to that. _They can’t know._

“I just want to have some form of insight into what it’s like for you to actually eat. What do you feel when you have to eat any food or sit down and have a meal?”

Her body moves while she speaks, cocking her head to the side and leaning in while still maintaining a non-threatening and opened posture. Like she’s inviting him to talk, inviting him to come to her.

_She’s resourceful._

He stares first at her and then the board, when that happens she continues, providing examples or suggestions. 

“Do you, for example, get sweaty hands, or do you feel nervous and your heart beats faster?” (He begins to nod along to what she’s saying). “Yeah? And maybe you feel jittery or like you want to cry when the foods in front of you and you begin to think too many things at once?” She stops and his nodding stops, like they’ve both come out of a trance and he’s worried he’s revealed too much. 

“Have you ever purged?” She then asks.

He feels himself stiffen up and pretends he didn't hear her. Now he feels very unsure of everything. All it would take is one slip up on his part and he’d be sent off. Disowned by everyone. Even though it’s only a matter of time until that happens he can’t do it now. Tension and anxiety ebbs out from his very core.

“If you have that’s ok.” She supplies, but he keeps on pretending not to hear. “What about self-harm?” He peeks at her, “Like cutting or burning yourself?”

 _Burning?_ _He hasn’t tried that before._

He tries not to look worried, tries to play it off cool but he knows he fails when he shakes his head and twists his lips to form a ‘what can you do’ expression. 

Isabelle purses her lips with this expression he cannot pinpoint. (He’s not sure he wants to) “Have you ever heard of something called ‘Safe Space’?”

He avoids her eyes again but shakes his head, no, staring at the board under his hands in his lap.

“Safe Space is a meditational technique that can help someone calm down and relax for any reason.” She pauses before going on, explaining it to him before writing it down for him on a small slip of paper that he holds in his hands for the rest of the session. 

The rest of the session plays off with talk about eating habits and attitudes and then switching back to art or some other random subject such as music. Liam comes up again at the end of the hour and-however-long these sessions are.

She shares with him that she thinks it's possible that he does, in fact, have an eating disorder coupled with depression. Yet he shakes it off immediately, refusing to accept anything of the sort. He doesnt and he never will, all he has is an inability to ever be normal. Nathan showed him that all right. He wasn't normal and never will be, he's the scum of the fucking earth and a bloody fat, unappealing, disgusting one while he's at it. He loses himself in his thoughts and cannot be shaken from them. 

Again, Liam wipes away the tears he hadn't realised he’d shed and helps him stand. Zayn refuses to let all his weight fall on Liam when he pulls him in for a hug. Even though nowadays all he wants to do is to sag into Liam’s warm arms and solid chest. Be held so close and tight just like he had always done before, just like what he’s been craving for years. He has to hold back when he thinks that, he’s getting so emotional now too and with these sessions he just feels stressed too. He can’t let them know how he thinks and what he is. If he does he will be sent away and as selfish as it is he doesn't want that; he just wants to stay with Liam forever. 

\--------

_(Ring ring, Ring ring.)_

_"Hi Isabelle."_

_"Hello Liam, I'm calling to discuss the food plan that you have made with Zayn since we couldn't earlier."  
_

_"Oh, right, yeah gimme a moment." He retrieves the folder he has in his bag -_ _similar to the one he has in the kitchen back home where Zayn and Niall are right now. He runs through it in great detail, including the weights the hospital gave him and the links to websites he used._

_"You're very thorough. Majority of the family and friends of patients i've had in the past have never done that much."_

_"Yeah, well it's Zayn. We've been stuck by the hip from the start."_

_"Explains why he's comfortable with you but not the others."_

_"He's said he's comfortable with me?"_

_"I cannot disclose details between my patients and I but it's not hard to see that he is comfortable with you,"_

_"Oh, sorry, i'm not that observant with a lot of things."_

_"I beg to differ with the phone calls we've had prior to this. But back on track, I believe that since you've been making sure he consumes 1500-2000 calories a day for a few weeks now that you can move it up to 2000-2500 but stay there for as long as he needs. Or, in other words until it's visibly easier for him to manage that. It's very important he's not pushed too far with this as no doubt you probably came across re-feeding syndrome during your research. It's rare but very possible. Have you got that?"_

_"Yeah, writing it down actually."  
_

_"Fantastic, I also suggest that when he's reaching - bleugh, pardon me - reached a certain weight - I will send over a food plan later today and we can discuss it more when it comes up that exercise should be bought into the routine you have going on. Hopefully it will help him realise that he now has more energy to use and it would be very good because as you probably know it's an endorphin releaser."_

_She pauses for a bit. "Yeah, got it."_

_"Ok, again with exercise I suggest you and the boys go out for team sports like football or hockey or any other game he likes. Even if it's just passing ball between you all. On top of that I suggest an individual self-defence sport he could do like karate or boxing because chances are it will build his self-confidence. Am I correct in remembering you said you did boxing or something before?"_

_"Yeah, still got the membership but I froze it when Zayn came to live with me."_

_"Alright and does this gym hold classes or..?"  
_

_"Yeah it does, are you suggesting me to get a joint membership for the two of us or something later on?"  
_

_"Yes that would be good. Following on again, things like Yoga are good. I encourage all my patients to try it at some point because it's fantastic for mind and body focus as well as getting rid of negative energy. I however always remind the people associated with my patients that you cannot force them into doing anything and that it's their choice to do whatever activities they want to. Not only will giving Zayn multiple options give him the opportunity to make choices for himself but help in confidence too. Something I want to remind you of is that Zayns not had a lot of control in the last few years. Now that he's recovering he's also lost control over his diet and self-harm which was the source of control he had when he lived with Nathan. Letting him choose will potentially help him gain control back."_

_"Yeah I always make sure Zayn has an option."_

_"Well then Liam, as long as you keep this up there is no doubt in my mind that he will with time be able to move on."_

_"Thanks Isabelle, see you later."_

_"See you Liam."_  

\----

**Z A Y N**

That night when he's cloaked in the silence of darkness alone, drowning in his thoughts he gets up and quietly makes his way to the bathroom. Taking the blade that was hidden and gliding it to this thighs to stop Isabelle's voice echoing inside his head. 

And more importantly, the ones that have always been inside his head. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't use the meal plan as a legit one, i did research but got confused between all the measurements so im just rolling with 10,000 calories being healthy for a man Zayns age and height, building up to it and stuff. This may change but dont take it seriously, just roll with it. 
> 
> And if you're confused with the 'bleugh' bit she messed up what she was saying because that happens guys.
> 
> Also, i apologise that it's a shitty chapter. I kinda just want it over with.


	12. Not Like That

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter to make up for my lack of posting, I'm sorry about that but thank you so much for all your support!
> 
> Bit of a jump in time and i'm sorry it may be a bit confusing but just flow with it people. I feel guilty for taking so long and dont really know how to link it so im just going for it.

  **Z A Y N**

 They’re sitting on the couch watching some film he cannot remember the name of when it happens.

“C’mon Zayn.” Liam patted his knee “Lets get to bed.”

That’s when Zayns world comes crashing down. He knew this was coming, he knew it was only a matter of time until Liam wanted this. Why else would he offer him accommodation? Why else would Liam take him in and look after him? Why else and how could he have been so _stupid?_ Granted, it had only been a few weeks since he had moved in but he hoped it would last longer.

_Getting your hopes up, how stupid._

He nods, body stiff, clenching his jaw to keep his fear in check before nodding and stuttering out (as per _fucking_ usual) “can you-you give me a min-minute o-or two, f-first?” He looks down at Liams knee before tacking on a “p-please?”

Liam lifts the hand off his knee and replies with a conversational “yeah sure.” 

So Zayn pushes himself off the couch and makes his way to the guest room with a heavy body and a heavier heart.

-:-:-:-:-:-

**L I A M**

Zayn seemed tense leaving the living room so Liam waits 10 second before following. He waits outside Zayns room - listening out just incase his state of tenseness is another sign that he’s urging. Listening for the sound of purging or tell-tale hiss that he’s cutting.  

But thankfully that’s not the case. He only hears Zayn breathing steadily; almost practiced which makes Liam worry a little and the removal of clothing and swish of movement. When there’s nothing but silence he knocks on the door.

He hears the sharp inhale of air from the other side of the door and asks “Zayn, can I come in now?”

No answer is heard, so he pushes it open after 5 beats of his now-pounding heart and what meets his eyes makes him go stone cold. “Zayn!” He says desperately: In too much shock to do anything else.

The man in question is before him, naked, on his knees with his hands over his thighs - fingers splayed in almost exact precision but it does nothing to cover the scars and healing wounds underneath. 

He still looks part-skeleton. His ribs still show and his hips jut out. His hands are wider than his thighs and he looks so dead and broken before Liam. He wants to cry, and so he does.

“Zayn, Zayn, what are you doing?” He rushes forwards to Zayns shaking form - he can’t tell if he’s shivering or hyperventilating. He rips his t-shirt over his head.

Zayn whimpers; “I-I,”

Liam gently takes a hold of one of Zayns wrists and he flinches, but doesn’t fight his hand being manhandled through Liams t-shirts sleeve or the second one. In fact he looks up towards Liam, neck muscles straining and jaw clenching with the effort to keep facial composure and looks so desperate, yet so confused with him. His eyes seem to ask _what are you doing?_ But Liam has the same question on mind and beats him to it.

“What were you doing?” He asks softly, pulling the hem of his shirt down to cover up as much of his thighs as he can - for Zayns sake.

“I,I.” Zayn can’t seem to get it out in one go, so he waits patiently for Zayn to take a breather. “I was-wasn’t sure what, what position you want-ted me to-to be-e in.”

Thats when it clicks in place for Liam: “Oh god, _Zayn_.”

He engulfs him in a hug, wrapping him up completely and pulling him as close as possible. He even moves Zayns legs apart, making sure to keep the t-shirt over his crotch and crosses his own legs so Zayns sitting in his lap. His right arm goes to hold Zayn head into his neck and his left goes around his back and torso.  “Oh god, Zayn.” He echo’s again. “That’s not what I meant honey. That’s not what I meant.” He feels Zayn shake in his arms and his neck is now becoming wet - he knows Zayn sobbing, tears and snot and drool dribbling down but he doesn’t care. “Oh, Zayn. Listen to me, ok?" He manoeuvres the both of them gently so that they're looking into each others eyes. "I need you to hear this. I am never. _Never_. Going to do that to you. I am never going to treat you the way he did, I didn’t mean ‘lets get to bed’ as in ‘I want to have sex with you.’ I just wanted you to get some extra sleep because of all the nightmares you’ve had this week.” He finished off with a gentle tone, smoothing Zayns hair out as he talks.

Zayn, who kept quiet enough during his talk lets loose now, shaking, hiccuping and sobbing whole-heartedly, falling forward into his neck. It sounds like relief, honestly. He sounds so grateful in his sobs that Liam’s not sure what else to do. Did Zayn honestly expect Liam to rape him? Is that why it's been so much more difficult for him? 

“I’m not _him_ , Zayn, I won't hurt you, or rape you or do anything you don't want to you.” Liam hushes, nosing at the others hairline, his tone quiet but loud enough to be heard - soft. “He’s gone and you’re ok.”

Zayn just keeps shaking where he is and sobs. So much it breaks Liam’s heart and eventually, he is there for so long he wears himself out and cries himself to sleep.

Unfortunately, Liam knows that’s not the first time he’s done that, and probably not the last either. For a while at least. When Zayns body fully sags into Liams, and his breathing has evened out he waits a few minutes, just so he knows Zayns fully passed out before he stands. It’s awkward - going from a position where his legs are crossed with a body in his lap to standing and holding said body, but he does it with little movement or response on Zayns part. His shoulders are bowed and mouth slightly agape, hands that were once tucked under his chin are now sagged. Overwhelmed by gravity and around the area of his midriff against Liam ribs. There are dark circles under his eyes and tear tracks staining his cheeks. 

He temporarily removes his hand from the back of Zayns head to carefully jerk the covers away from the left hand side of the bed. Reclining the man down on the mattress as gentle as possible. Firstly by walking on his knees to the middle of the bed and sitting Zayn down; then moving the arm that was around his torso up his back as he lowers him down gently, steadily. The hand from the back of his head delicately slipping out from under Zayns head and setting it down: Swallowed by the pillows he had plumped that morning. 

For the sake of Zayns decency, he makes sure the t-shirt is still down to his thighs before moving. He rises from the bed, fetching a pair of old sweats before returning to his post. He feels bad; like he’s breaking any trust Zayn has in him when he quickly scans his torn thighs, cataloguing each wound, each scar and realising there are recent ones; some that can’t be more than a few days old and he wants to sob. Not because Liam’s doing what he can and outsiders would think Zayn’s ignoring him - because he knows that's not the case. Zayn has been far too deep in this for too long and a few weeks on in a much safer environment are not going to get him to stop, even if Zayn himself wanted too. 

No, Liam doesn't want to sob for his own efforts; he knows they’re working to some extent, lessening the pain and self-inflictment. No, he wants to sob because Zayn feels like this. He wants to sob, because of what Zayn, their beautiful Zayn endured and now values himself as. He wants to cry because of how thin he is, how destroyed he looks and how ripped the skin of his thighs and arms have become. 

He needs to check them from now on. He knows he has to keep an eye out. But not now. Now, he has done enough and Zayns rest is his priority.

He carefully slips the sweats on and stands to tuck Zayn into the covers. Zayn mumbles in his sleep but shows no sign of waking up, his eyebrows move; raising and lips fidget like a babies when they sleep. He looks so young in his sleep; so stress-free and peaceful. It’s a juxtaposition that breaks Liam even more. 

_(He also knows it's like the calm before the storm - that it's only a matter of time until he's being ripped apart by his nightmares)._

He shucks his own jeans - grabbing a sleep shirt and pair of sweats for himself and wearing them before he circles around the other side of the bed. He sits down the covers on the empty size of the twin bed. Brushing fingers through Zayns hair because he thinks that’ll help relax him. It’s plain to see how he doesn’t mind someone messing with his hair and massaging the scalp. How that momentary state of calm and clarity washes over his face when strands are moved in no particular direction.

It makes Zayn sigh in his sleep and he turns his head in the pillow towards where the hand is, nuzzling it sleepily. For a moment Liam thinks he’s woken him, but he stays as he was, sleeping peacefully. It only occurs to him he may just be leaning into the touch a few moments later, so he continues, gently massaging the pads of his fingertips against the others scalp, letting the thin strands of jet black hair move wherever they wish and brushing it through for another 10 minutes. Until he is yawning and fighting to stay fully awake.

He stands to leave, satisfied that Zayn will be asleep for the next few hours, when a whine comes from the sleeping form next to him. Zayn stirs, his left hand reaching under the covers weakly for the source of comfort, and well, if he made a small cute noise of disapproval Liam wouldn’t badger him on it. He leans back over and strokes his hair some more. The moment he made contact Zayn settled again. 

It was then he made a decision. It was a big one and he didn’t know the consequences, after all Zayn had hugged him for the first time only last week - but Zayn seemed so much more peaceful right now and Liam wanted to see if that could mean a better and longer sleep for him tonight. He pulls back the first duvet on top of the covers and slips under them - so there’s a barrier between them but he has something warm over him. Shuffling up and reaching out cautiously before slipping his right arm under Zayns neck and bringing his left hand to stroke through Zayns hair. 

After a few minutes Zayn stirs again, mumbling something incoherent and shuffles up against the left side of Liams body with a sigh, his arm swings around his torso and head rests on Liams chest.

Liam stiffens for a moment, he hadn’t expected that, but it’s nice. He’s comfortable and Zayn has become pliant on top of him, his nose moves up in a small snuff before returning to wherever he goes in this state of unconsciousness. And so, Liam lets himself relax, smoothing through Zayns hair still, so much his arm is getting tired. 

It takes a while, but he too falls to sleep, his fingers still entangled in Zayns jet black hair and they stay like that until morning sunrise. 

————————

Liam slips out of bed the next morning before Zayn can wake as usual and goes downstairs to prepare breakfast for the two of them. He doesn't tell Zayn about being in the same bed as him the night before - and can't decide why he does that. However he mentions it and makes sure to tell Isabelle about the previous night events the next day before Zayns appointment. He asks Zayn for permission about the events beforehand, of course. But Zayn just seems so dead inside over breakfast his only response is to nod at his request. 

-:-:-:-:-

**Z A Y N**

“Well then Zayn.” She starts after their usual small-talk start to the session, discussing nothing in particular. “I was wondering if you wanted to try anything to help you with talking again today. We don't have to, we can do whatever.”

He doesn't make eye contact, as usual. Instead he looks around the room as he contemplates what she's saying. He really wants to be able to talk normally. God that was embarrassing last week when he tried to reply to Liam. He wanted to kill himself right there out of embarrassment. 

He nods, still not looking at her. 

“Great. So, it's not that I'm going to be able to tell you the solution with talking and not stuttering, that’s not going to be it. Instead it's quite the opposite. You will need to able to come to me, or at least meet me halfway to successfully break through the mental barrier you have with it right now.” 

He looks at her between the eyes like she taught him, so he can look at her but not have to make the self-deemed awkward eye contact and nods.

“Alright. Zayn, I need you to tell me your full name.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but the lump is there again preventing it, and instead comes out an indistinctive sound. He can feel his face heat up and the tips of his ears go burning red. He immediately looks away from her and buries his head in his hands. _God, this is so embarrassing._  

“Hey, Zayn it's ok. We can try again. Remember when we talked about safe space? Try that for a moment.”

So he lifts his face out his hands and shuts his eyes. Thinking of the place he created. 

~

The path goes on for miles ahead of him, shaded by green luscious trees on either side. He can hear the rush of a waterfall and people laughing. He himself is laughing too. Liam's there, the boys are there. His family is there. 

In this place he feels confident enough to sing, to draw. He turns away from the waterfall and there is a white wall there, graffiti cans and other artistic mediums played out at the base. He tentatively reaches for them and shakes the can of his choice. Gloss Green. He can hear the can clinking, and thinks of the masterpiece he wants to create. 

With laughter filling his ears and a smile on his face he extends his arms out and presses on the nozzle. As soon as the paint hits the surface his eyes open.

~

He’s calmer now, he doesn't think of anything but that, doesn't let himself destroy the somewhat state of peace he’s in right now.

“Z-zay-z-ay-nh.” He stutters out. “Mal-“ He shuts his eyes and take a deep breath. Spitting out “M-Malik.” He takes a few more deep breaths, now he's feeling embarrassed. 

He only open his eyes when Isabelle says “There we go.” She's smiling again. “You just look the hardest step of all.” 

He lets himself feel proud of that. But not for long. Stopping the blooming warmth in his chest when he realises ‘ _you're not worth it you stupid fuck.’_

“And can you please tell me something about yourself?” She crosses her legs over her knee. He nods.

“I-I,” he stumbles, trying to find something. “M-My,” He looks away from her, trying to tell her something this simple shouldn't be so hard. He clamps his eyes again and safe places for a moment “Fay-fay-ver-favourite.” He can't believe he got that word out. So long. “cul-colou-r, i-is, p-p-p-pur-ple.” 

He feels so anxious and nervous now, so fucking scared for no reason at all. Isabelle notices the discomfort. “Well done Zayn, that was really hard and you just smashed the first step.”

He doesn't respond, instead looks down at his feet so as to avoid her gaze.

“It's natural to feel scared or even embarrassed or ashamed at this. I'm here to tell you and show you that you don't have to be.” 

He nods, still looking at the floor. 

“Do you want to keep trying or not?”

He shakes his head. He’s honestly about to cry from the mortification he feels.

“Ok then, in that case there’s something I’d like to talk about with you and suss out. You're doing really great  and remember we can stop at anytime.” He nods, looking back up but not relaxing into the sofa.

“Can we please talk about what happened last night then?”

It goes straight to his chest, a tear traces down as he doesn't even mean to try speak again. Telling her. “I-I, j-just. I - i,” He sobs, head back in hands because _God Zayn you are such a stupid fuck, what the fucking hell, go jump off a cliff._

“He-he sound-ded like h-him.” He confesses, looking up over his fingers. “It-it's on-ly a matter, matter of t-time.”

He begins sobbing again, and Isabelle waits for a minute for him to calm down before asking softly; “Matter of time until what?”

He averts his gaze again, and can feel himself flush. “T-til, h-he,” He looks at his hands again. “Wa-want-s’s i-it.”

“Until Liam wants to have sex with you?”

He nods. 

“Why do you think that Zayn?”

He shrugs, “w-why els-e woul-d h-he want-t m-me around?” Sniffing and looking at her, watching her stare at him because  _he knows the truth and he knows what is bound to happen eventually._

There’s a short pause.

“Has it ever occurred to you,” She starts, “that if he wanted to rape you he would have done it when you couldn’t move much on your own due to injuries you sustained? And if he was intending to use you that way, why would you be here with me in this room right now?”

There's a silence as that settles on them. “Do you think the boys - I'm sorry I forgot their names.”

“L-louis, Ha-har-ry a-nd Ni-nial-l.”

“Do you think Louis, Harry and Niall will too?”

He shrugs again, it had crossed his mind but he hadn't considered it.

“They come around a lot don't they?”

“Y-ye.” He gives up mid-word and nods. 

“If Liam were to take advantage of you, wouldn't he attempt to cut off all contact to you like Nathan did?” 

The mention of Nathans name makes him flinch. But now he feels conflicted. It makes sense, what she’s saying, but why would Liam just take him in like he has? What other motivation is there to babysit him - the basket case.

He reaches for the board. Unable to deal with trying to talk again right now and writes this down.

“Well,” she leans back from where she had shifted forward to decipher his writing. “Why do you think?”

He feebly holds the board and looks around the room, feeling completely lost. He shrugs again, mouth agape as he scrambles for some sort of an answer, but he _doesn't know_. 

 _I don’t know._ He admits. _I just don’t know._

“Then why don't you ask him?” She suggests, cocking her head to the side.

Zayn freezes up at that. He can't just _ask_ someone when they plan on raping him. On hurting him. There’s a long silence between them and Zayn’s feeling nothing short of excruciatingly awkward. He feels 0.5 seconds away from breaking down and all he wants to do is just go somewhere - _alone -_ and have, like, 20 blankets to wrap up in to go to sleep and just never wake up.

Isabelle changes the subject then, and they go on about nothing in particular for a bit. That is, until _he_ is bought up. 

“What did he used to say to you?” She asks him softly. “Did he used to call you anything nasty?”

He nods his head solemnly and writes on the board ‘ _fat, disgusting, whore, ugly, pig, worthless’_

“Then why did you stay with him?” She asks, “Not to be patronising, I just think it would be beneficial to identify why you stayed in an environment that was depreciating for you.” 

Zayn finally looks up and makes the first eye contact for the session. “B-Because I, I love-d hi-him and h-he love-loved me-e.” 

Isabelle shakes her head. “That’s not love Zayn.”

Zayn shakes him head, trying to swallow the lump that’s caught in his throat. “No!” He chokes out. “He, he was help-in-ing me.” 

Isabelle cocks her head to the side as he battles the oncoming tears. “What was he trying to help you with?”

Zayns hands begins to shake. “H-he showed me-e wh-what I-I am. He-he was hel-elping me-e be bet-better.”

“Be better?”

“Yes!” He shouts, it feels so good to scream out for once. “Be-because I’m-I’m so fu-fuc-fucked u-up!” He forgets everything but that Nathan was helping _him_. Helping his to _realise what a fucked up, piece of shit he is._

“Why would you say you’re fucked up?”

He scoffs. “Oh my god. Is-Isabelle!” Tears well up. “ca-an you not-not see all the me-ess in front of you. I’m-I’m fucking insane, I - I should-“

It hits him smack in the face the second he’s said it. Realising what a huge mistake he’s just made in admitting that.

He sees Isabelle going to ask another question but he’s already shaking his head. He stands up quickly when his breathing becomes laboured. “I, I mean like…” His voice trails off and his hands slip into his hair, fisting at it when the panic begins to set in. 

He just admitted that to her, oh fuck, shit shit shit, crap.

He feels the anxiety creep up on him, filling his lungs as he tugs at his hair. “Oh god, oh god, oh god, _no!_ ”

“Zayn,” He hears Isabelle say, she too stands up, manoeuvring around the table to come nearer to him.

“NO! stay back!” He sobs. Jerking his body away from her up against the closest wall. Sinking into the corner. _Oh god oh god oh fuck fuck fuck, shit, ahh!_ He really begins to panic now. Pulling at his hair to punish himself and crawling into a ball to rock back and forth on his heels. 

Isabelle starts to approach him again, hands up with the file down on the table. She's saying something - he can see her lips move but no sound is heard over the static ringing in his ears. 

“No! Stay away! Please!” He holds up a hand in a stop signal. As if that will create some protective shield around him and keep him safe.

“Zayn, I'm not going to hurt you.” He hears her say as she crouches a few feet away from him. He begins to shake, his body convulsing and tears slipping from his eyes. He’s so scared, _so scared._

“You might not,” He hiccups. “But they will. I know they will and I’m sorry, please don't send me there, I’ll promise to be good, I promise.” He’s tugging violently on his hair again and choking as he speaks to her.

“Who’s they?” She asks, her voice is so soft, so calm. Soothing.

He hyperventilates. “Th-the people who I should be with!” He near shouts.

“Nathan?”

He shakes his head. _“No!”_

“Then who?” She looks genuinely confused which in turn discombobulates him. 

He doesn’t think about that though, shaking his head as images from the years before assault his minds eye. “No no no no no!” Wheezing out ragged breaths.

“Zayn I need you to breathe for me, ok, can you please breathe for me?” Isabelle says somewhere in the distance but his head is too clouded with thoughts and terrified anticipation of what is to come. He shakes his head and repeats in a mantra, “no no no no no.” He hiccups and chokes on his cry, “Oh no." 

“Zayn, Zayn, I need you to breathe please, or else I'll have to come closer.” Isabelle's voice is just too far off. He doesn't really hear her and has no capacity to process it or put it into action. Hyperventilation takes over, thoughts of what may come hitting him akin to a tsunami. Breaking over and crashing onto him.

\---

_He wakes up to see a white room. He’s lying on his back; staring at the ceiling. The hard surface of an old mattress beneath him. He goes to sit up, shift at the very least. But he can’t. His hands are restrained, as are his knees and ankles to the bed. There are more covering his shoulders and hips. He begins to panic, it becomes an out of body experience, thrashing against the ties to get himself out of the white room, wearing these foreign white clothes and away from here, far far away from here._

_“Oh, Mr. Malik, I wouldn’t do that if I was you.” Someone coos. And he remembers what happened yesterday. Oh God, he wishes it were a dream._

_Some terrible, terrible dream._

_\---_

He screams out when he remembers what took place there. Scrambling for some exit. Hating himself, despising himself because now, now he will never be able to leave. Ever. Now she knows how wrong he is. How no one will let him leave that place. 

 _“Liam!”_ He screams. _“Liam!”_

(“Will Liam be able to help?”)

“Liam! Liam!” He sobs out. “Please!”

His mind flicks back to the events from the hospital, he screams again; covering his ear with his hands and sobbing while Isabelle tries to soothe him. Liam may be his only salvation. 

“Oh no oh no oh god I screwed up, I screwed up.” He says in nearly one breath. 

“What do you mean you screwed up?” 

Zayn can't process it. Can't process anything as he rocks himself back and forth on his heels with tears raining down from his eyes and desperate gasps for air come from his mouth. He stays there, shaking and trying to breathe for what feels like hours but was probably only a few minutes.

The door is rapidly pushed open. “Zayn?" Someone calls his name and sounds like they've ran a marathon. "Zayn?”

Zayn doesn't have a chance to respond as Liam makes his way to him and crouches beside him, pulling his frail body into his lap. “Breathe Zayn babe, breathe.” A hand is on his navel. “C’mon darling I need you to breathe right now, I need you to push my hand out when you do it, Ok? Just focus on breathing beautiful, you can do it.” 

It takes longer than normal, but through the ragged breaths and huge takes of air he can gain some form of control, Zayn shudders and hiccups and shakes but he does it. He does it.

“Well done gorgeous, well done.”

Zayn is partly beyond it when he can finally breathe normally, sagging into Liams body subconsciously and resting his head against his neck. They’re there for a bit and Zayn notices Liams gently hushing him, soothing him with his voice and the hand that rubs at his back.

“Who’s they Zayn?” 

It’s then bought to Zayn attention that he is still very much in Isabelle’s office and he just had a severe attack of some sort.

_You will never escape now._

He stares blankly at her for a bit, tears occasionally dripping from his eyes.“Th-the mental hospital,” He says, his teeth chatter. “Nathan showed me what they do to people like me. P-please don’t, please don't send me there. I'll be good, I promise.”

Isabelle and Liam both immediately rush in “Hey hey Zayn, you're already good.”

He shakes his head solemnly. “No,” He sniffs. “No I'm not.”

“Why aren't you good?”

He begins to shake again as he eventually manages to confess; “because I'm never good, I can never do anything right! I'm just a fucked up mess who needs to be put in his place and doesn’t deserve any of this!”

Liam noses his temple. “Zayn, honey, that’s Nathan talking.”

He shudders in a breath. “Well Nathans right!”

“Not this time, Zayn, definitely not this time.” Isabelle tells him.

He sobs and turns in Liams lap to hide his face. Refusing to acknowledge what they say after that. He’s done with anyway, he’ll never be able to get out of this situation, never.

“What are you feeling Zayn, honestly?”

He blankly looks up, “I-I feel a mess.” He whimpers. 

_(That’s because you are. You will never be right)._

Isabelle contradicts the voice in his head. “Ok then, that's normal. What else?”

“I-“ It looks like he’s gagging as he speaks, “I-I wanna.” He shakes his head, returning to hide in Liams neck. May as well do it while he can.

“You want to?” She prompt him.

He shakes head again, “No-o, I-I can't tell yo-ou.”

“What if you wrote it down for me then?” She stands and retrieves the whiteboard.

He sobs again but takes the board and writes down _cut_. He has accepted his fate, Liam obviously already knows it.

“How bad, on a scale of one-to-ten?” She asks.

He holds up his hands, signalling 7 fingers. 

Before any other thing is said he writes on the board _I'm so sorry._

“Why are you sorry Zayn?” She asks gently.

Zayn snaps.

“Because I'm such a fucking mess I'm always going to be sorry!” He near shouts, choking on the end of his sentence. That in turns bring on another bout of panic and he begins to hyperventilate again, his body spamming in gasping intervals. From where he is in his lap, Liam bends down and gently presses his lips to his forehead. The labouring breaths seem to cease and he oddly calms down. As much as he feels calm, it’s also unnerving whatever power Liam seems to have over him, as he rubs his upper arms and cards a hand through his hair. 

“Zayn. I think we’ll end this session soon because this has been an extremely difficult one for you to go through and I think we got to shed some light on a lot of insecurities you have and how you value yourself, yes?”

Zayns eyes and head is so heavy now, but he nods - avoiding eye contact again. 

“But before you do go,” She says calmly before stating. “I want to assure you and give you something to think about before our next session; you're not being sent anywhere, whatever mental institution Nathan showed you is fake and going to have been a different interpretation from a film.”

Zayn shakes his head. Silent tears still leaking. “He didn't do that.”

Isabelle furrows her brow slightly and leans in a bit further when she asks “Can you please tell me what he did then?”

Zayn stammers, looking around the room to avoid any and all eye contact from both Liam and Isabelle. He takes a deep breath when Liam shushes. Hushing his thoughts.

“He, he,” Zayn stutters. “He converted our basement to look like one and I-I was there for a week.” He admits quietly, his voice breaking off while still avoid any and all eye contact. 

“He locked you in the basement?” Isabelle asks, shocked.

Zayn shakes his head.

“Can you tell me what did he do then?”

He sniffs, “I-I lied, sorry, he did… But,” He gulps in the air. “He like did sessions with me and made me eat the food and tied me to the bed so I couldn't move.” He begins to shake again. “And-and when I didn't do something right he tasered me or-or something.” His voice raises several pitches towards the end as he remembers that hard bed and the white that cloaked him.

He doesn't look up from Liams body but when he does Isabelle is speechless. “Zayn, I can tell you right now that doesn't happen. You unfortunately were given the wrong impression of a mental institution and I'm sorry you went through that.”

Zayn sobs out at that, he wanted to get out of Liams lap and run far _far_ away because she just said that. Now he will get a proper impression of one. He’s too fucked up for them to not send him there. Will it be worse than what Nathan did? _Oh god, please no!_ He would rather die than that.

“However,” Isabelle cuts in before he goes into another full-fledged panic attack. “I can assure you now, you are not being sent anywhere - you are doing much better in a home environment with loved ones than you ever would in a mental hospital. Yes, you are ill. but we’re not going to send you anywhere, ok?” She says softly, he voice is so gentle, so understanding and Zayn stops fidgeting immediately. 

He breathing shudders. “Promise?” His voice is weak and cracks from crying.

“Promise.” She nods. 

Zayns not buying it. “You swear?” He asks, still disbelieving.

“I swear on mine and my families lives.” 

Zayn wants to sob in relief, and he does. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Begins falling from his lips. “Thank you.” Wiping away the mass of tears from his wet face.

Isabelle doesn't say anything, just stares on sadly when Liam says: “C’mon, Zayn, lets go home.” Pressing a kiss to his ear. 

Zayn nods into his chest.

Liam waits for his crying to stop, thinking Zayn will get up with him but he then realises Zayn's too exhausted and far gone that he has to do it. He stands them up, before picking him up and carrying him bridal style.

“Take it easy, ok Zayn?” Isabelle says. “If you ever need anything you have my number now.”

Zayn stares weepily at his knees but nods.

“Ok then.” Her voice is soft, so soft, “see you soon.”

Zayn doesn't really log the rest of the day. In fact he doesn't remember much after that, and in the future he won't even remember what was said in that conversation. He doesn't log Liam carrying him all the way out to the car, or how a passer by opens the car door for Liam so he doesn't have to balance him and open the door simultaneously. He doesn't log the kind civilian as they pass his blurred vision and wish him well. He doesn't remember how gently Liam set him down, fumbling for his seatbelt and lifting his arms through the hole as he blearily stared on off into space, contemplating wether the last hour really just happened. He vaguely feels Liam thumb his cheekbone, wiping away the remaining wetness from his raw eyes and flushed face. Spurring a response from him and dopily looks in Liams direction, Liam who then holds his chin with his right hand and brushes his left through Zayns hair soothingly, chaste kissing his forehead. 

He doesn't remember the car ride home, how carefully Liam drove (not to say he normally doesn't but even more so this time). 

He doesn't remember being helped out the car, how first Liam ran to the front door and opened it before he came back and undid his seat belt; carefully pulling his half-aware being out the passenger side, before picking him up and carrying him again. This time with his left arm under his thighs and his right steady on his back and head, rubbing the skin through the clothing. Zayn doesn't remember tucking his arms under his chin and burying his face into Liams neck, simply breathing in the scent. He doesn't remember or even note that Louis’ actually there, had been waiting for them to come back from Isabelle’s and immediately rushed to them when Liam opened the door. He doesn't hear Liam asking Louis in hushed tones to run on up and switch on the electric blanket recently bought for his bed, to make sure some comfortable clothing is ready to get changed into. He doesn't really feel how softly and slowly Liam treads them up the stairs, or his hand running up and down his still knobbly spine… the gentle _shush shush shush_ and _I’ve got you, I’ve got you darling, I’ll take care of you._

He does vaguely remember being in the bathroom, sitting on the closed toilet seat watching as Liam wets a flannel, steam floating skyward, rinsing it out and gently moving back to him. He does remember how they made eye contact, his mouth agape and not quite sure what to do. He feels heavy and low, so low. Liam thumbs his face again with a sad smile before gently washing his face off, the warm water warming his cold skin, gently dabbing at his eyelids when he closes them and then repeats this time with a dry, fluffy towel. 

He feels exhausted, weighted down, disconnected from reality as Liam stands him up again. Louis walks back in at that moment, asking what else he could do and do either of them need extra help, but he can't remember any of this. Not even the tender, gentle way Liam encourages his shaking legs and knocking knees to work and get him to bed. How he catches him when they give out and he just holds him, holds him so well before picking him up again and carrying him through this time. His head falls onto Liams shoulder, every muscle going slack. 

He doesn't remember being sat down on the bed, nor Liam slowly pulling off his clothing; he doesn't hear Liam asking his permission to do so. Just numbly staring off. Neither the soft pull of the warm sleep shirt over his head, being laid down gently as his jeans are tugged off. He subconsciously begins crying at that - because while it's so familiar to him; this feeling of denim being pulled off him even though this time it’s really slow and he’s too out of it to have remembered he’s not there anymore. Liam stands though, over him this time and his tears cease. It’s a confusing place, where he is right now, but he knows Liam will guide him through. He blearily stares off into space as Liam gently talks him through what's going on; he can't hear or remember it though. Not when Liam says “ _beautiful I’m just taking off your boxers but I'm not looking babe, I’m not looking at them or anywhere down there, I’m looking at you beautiful, It’s ok. You can sleep after this darling. Maybe you can catch up then, yeah? I’m not going to hurt you or do anything you don't want darling and neither is Louis. You’re going to be ok honey, you’re going to be fine._ ’ 

He cannot recall the soft feeling of the pyjama bottoms against his legs, nor how heavy his eyes are becoming. He cannot pinpoint how exactly Liam got him into bed but Liam could tell him he gently slipped a hand under his back and pushed it to under his head as well. How Louis actually just walked in with Liams request of warm milk and jerks the covers back when Liam picks him up once more before sitting him down against the mattress, where the electric blanket is under the sheets and has created a perfect warmth. He is sit up against the pillows and Liam holds him steady as Louis hands them the warm mug, Liam even covers up one of the hands Zayn has on the mug, just so it won't spill and gently gets him to drink it. After that his upper arm is rubbed while Louis takes the mug from them and sets it down on the bedside table to help when Zayns pounding head falls onto Liam shoulder due to exhaustion and finally, finally he goes to sleep. They wait about half a minute before they shuffle him all the way down into the perfect warmth the electric blanket has made and his head is set down into the pillows that then partially swallow his head. Liam tucks him in and takes the seat he now normally sleeps in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please respect that i just shared a paraphrased version of my safe space with you there. Not all of it, and of course not with Liam and the boys. But please respect this was quite personal for me.
> 
> Also, I know Zayn talked a bit in this but that was mainly because he was panicking and when that happens he can kind of talk a bit, but it's not quite there yet.


	13. Post-Panic Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, warning: this is very much a filler and easily the shortest chapter i will ever do. 
> 
> VERY IMPORTANT
> 
> I have these huge exams soon, just did state, my running partner has a brain tumour so i need to be there for her and the guy i'm seeing (basically my bf) is moving to the states a week Friday and life is just too busy to write right now, so don't expect much until mid-september and stuff. I'm so sorry in advance, if i can i will. It's just there's this section i need to write before all the other stuff I've already written goes up and i don't know how to write it yet/not inspired to bc it's a slow painful angst that i dont know how to do.
> 
> If you're that desperate i could just post up a summary of what happens and come back later, but i only want to do that if i can forsee i won't update for a while.

"How's he doing?" Harry asks as he strides through the front door. Gently shutting it when he sees Zayn curled up on the couch in the adjacent living room, fast asleep. 

Liam sighs from where he is at the kitchen counter. "Better, just exhausted at the moment."

"Still?" Harry asks as he quietly toes off his shoes and shucks his jacket before leaning against the opposing counter to Liam, arms crossed across his chest.

"Yeah, You know Isabelle called me after to check up on him and she told me that panic attacks take the same amount of energy out of you as a marathon."

"Wait _what?_ "

"Yeah I know, that's why it's so important to take care of yourself or be taken care of after you've had one. it explains why he was so drained and still is."

_"Shit."_

Liam hums an agreement.

"Anyway, how are you holding up?" 

Liam looks over his shoulder, "yeah, yeah I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" Harrys eyebrows knit together.  

Liam sighs again, putting down the plate he was storing away. "It's just - I had no idea how bad it was. I mean, I obviously had a pretty good idea, but it's so much worse. You know, like," He bits his lip from where he now leans against the counter, mirroring Harry with his arms crossed. His eyes trained to a particular spot on the floor away from Harrys concerned gaze. "He's still cutting." He whispers in quiet admission. "Just," He covers his face with his hands. "A few nights ago after, well, you know, I said something by accident and he thought i wanted to, you know, 'go to bed'." He uses his fingers as quotation marks. "And then when he had finally passed out I saw his thighs and shit-Harry-just, I dont even know how to say it... Remember the hospital? And we saw them?"

Harry slowly nods when Liam makes the first eye contact.

"Try imagine that but all of it fresh and more."

Harry makes a face which largely resembles 'eek'.

"Yeah, I know. And then, well, Louis told you what happened yesterday."

Harry nodded, after Zayn had gone to sleep Liam explained what had happened at the session with Isabelle, leaving out a few things but mainly getting across what Zayn had truly believed and the whole 'basement conversion'. Louis had stewed and been so angry, swearing that if he ever got his hands on Nathan that he would rip him to pieces for what he had done. Liam had calmed him down before he woke up Zayn or stormed off to actually do as planned, and of course Louis had told Harry about what had happened that evening. 

"It's just, I know that he's been in too deep for too long and he can't just  _stop_. I get that. But he's still so thin and weak and geez, Harry, just his thighs and, shit." It's not the most eloquent thing he's ever said but Harry gets the point when a few tears roll down his face. 

It's strange, seeing Liam cry. With all the muscles and growing-out buzzcut you'd think he was hard as stone. But then you got to know him and he resembled a marshmallow-slash-puppy more than anything.

"I'm just terrified that Zayn won't press charges or anything, and there's only so much we can do for him. He just has it in his head that he's all types of wrong and Nathan was helping him but he wasn't -  _he_ _wasn't_ \- and you know that too Haz."

Harry steps forward at that, bringing his friend into his shoulder so he can be the one being comforted for the moment. "You know..." Harry starts. "He's doing so much better with you than he would've with any of us." There's a pause. "Like, he hugged you not long ago, and when i'm with him, yeah, he's still quiet but he's ok. And Isabelle's bloody epic, I need to meet this woman. You've done so much and it'll all be worth it."

Liam lets out a shuddering sigh, retracting from Harrys shoulder. "Thanks Hazzah." Wiping his eyes on his sleeve when the doorbell rings.

"I'll get it." Harry says quietly before walking off to the front door to go answer who he knows is Louis and Niall straight from work. While Liam goes about dinner.

"He's asleep again?" Louis asks when they all come to where he is.

"Yeah." Liam nods. "He's exhausted, I mean, he has been sleeping, just not very well but after that attack he's wiped. And then on top of that what he's getting at the moment seems fitful. And with the Anorexia there's not really an alternative for his body apart from sleep to try get the energy." He sees Niall biting his lip from where he sits on the counter. "It's just difficult because i'm not sure whether to keep him up and regulate the sleep as we have been since he doesn't seem to be getting any nightmares right now and make sure he eats or just let him and his body catch up on it because while he  _is_ eating it's just so hard to keep him up."

No one talks for a bit, Louis hooks up some background music from his phone and Niall leaves to be with Zayn. When dinner is finally ready due to the combined force of Liam, Louis (well, he tried) and Harry they set about making the table.

"Can I go wake him?" Harry asks.

Liam knows what he's talking about, and shrugs. "Yeah, sure, just be really gentle about it, ya know?"

"Yeah, yeah I know," and without hesitation Harrys off to go wake up the black haired boy for dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like in the above comments, Sorreh for late update and that it's a bit of a filler. Wanted to get something up.
> 
> Go checkout WrennAndersons 'How Could We Be So Blind' bc guys that's a bloody epic fic and so well written... and she's so awesome and lovely.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed.


	14. Lets Talk About This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: *is back*

Later on in the week, when the additional lead injected into his bloodstream by his attack has nearly dissolved he has another session. Usually he goes twice a week but it seems this week is a special occasion. He knows what’s coming when he goes in, know she's going to ask because he finally admitted it, but he doesn’t want to talk about it. Ever.

It's towards the end of the session when she finally asks him: "So, Zayn, last week you mentioned you wanted to cut - is that the first time?"

Zayn sighs. Not up for lying about it when they already know the truth now, and shakes his head. Facing the floor in shame.

A man wouldn't do this; someone who was actually worth something - not him - would be able to handle this.

He actually doesn’t pay attention to a lot of what she says. It makes him feel bad because he should, and he knows Liam is paying something for this, which makes him feel guilty. He doesn’t deserve this, he doesn’t deserve a cent of anyone’s money, he doesn’t deserve care and he doesn’t deserve any affection on anyone’s part. He doesn’t even mean to do a lot of what he does – even though he wishes he could control himself more. Hence, why he feels so guilty about zoning out and not paying attention – something recently promoted into a higher position. There is one part, however that does catch in his mind.

"You know, if you're feeling the urge to cut but you don't feel like you can go to someone then maybe an alternative option that works for some people is to hold ice cubes, just in your hand or against where you want to cut or burn."

He looks up when she says that, she's making exaggerated facial expressions and he's not sure whether she's just really into explaining this (again, he feels guilty) or he's hallucinating. 

He doesn't know how long it is until Liam comes, it could've been 5 minutes, could've been 20. He didn't notice today, when he does come though, as usual Liam kissed him on the forehead and caressed his cheeks to wipe the wetness even though he didn't feel tears there this time (weakling), as usual he helps him stand and pulls him slowly in for a hug, because he accepts them more nowadays and likes them, they make him feel a bit warmer and lighter, even though he needs to stop before he gets too attached. 

He's not even listening to the quick conversation Isabelle and Liam have over him as Liam pats his hair, threading his fingers through the thickening strands and rubbing his back. He can't bring himself to care. When Liam kisses his forehead he doesn't look up; he looks down, wondering why he turned out so wrong and why they bother with him.

(His mind is a confusing place).

 ---

His mind continues to be even more confused when Liam brings them to the park and not back to Liams place like he thought they were going.

Liam comes around, opening the door for him and taking his hand as he steps out - something he blushes at.

"Hello lovely." He says. Zayn flushes even more, staring at the ground. Liam shuts the door and opens the back door, taking out two coats and a bag. One for each of them, he lays them both over the top of the car before taking the smaller one – he recognizes it as the one Niall bought him, and pulling him a bit forward before helping him put it on. Liam buttons up the front of his navy coat and then shrugs on his own ashen grey one. While Zayn watches him hitch it up his shoulders he says. "I was thinking that we've both been indoors a bit too much now, and I've seen you're getting a bit lost in that head of yours, so I was thinking we went for a quick walk, clear ourselves a bit and all. I've even got a hidden extra for us too just incase."

Zayn looks up at him as a gust of wind whips their hair out of shape, giving him a smile - weak, but genuine nonetheless, and nodding. Liam grin back is brighter than the sun and he extends his left elbow - his hand snug in his pocket and Zayn threads his arm through the space between Liams body and his arm before tucking his hand in his own pocket.

They walk in almost silence, listening to the wind and birds chirping, dogs barking and other background noises. Liam talks a little, what’s been going on at work, that his mum called and was asking how you were and that she'd like to come down some time and see you ("but only if you want Zayn, she says only if you're ready for it and it’s fine to take as long as you need.") Liam constantly checks if this is ok, what they're doing right now, and asks if he needs anything from time to time. Somehow he produces a bottle of water, presumably from the bag and gets him to have some.

Ten minutes walking time and Liam slows down to a halt. "Ahh. Here we are."

Zayn gives him a sideways look, wondering where 'here' is. They're at the edge of the field, facing a wooden port on the edge of the river. The water is murky, not clear but not brown either. It glints in the afternoon sunlight and Liam leads them towards it, unhooking himself from Zayn and sitting on the edge of the wooden ledge and pats the spot next to him, turning in his spot to look up at him. Zayn, hesitantly, goes towards and sits down. 

Liam then pulls the bag onto his lap, pulling out half a loaf of bread in a plastic bag, reaching in and handing him a few pieces. Zayn chews on his lip, it now sinking in what Liam’s thinking and he likes this. Very, very much. He smiles a bit and looks towards the approaching ducks, quacking now they've seen the food. He focuses on the ducks approaching, carefully breaking off little sections of the bread and chucking them into the water. Watching as the ducks gobble it all up. He laughs a little under his breath, it coming out no more than an exhale. Liam throws in bits of bread alongside him and little ducklings chase their mother to get it, competing for it until another bit is thrown in and their attention is shifted.

They sit there for almost half an hour, by now the bread is all but gone and so are the ducks, they just sit there. Peaceful. Liam leans back resting his weight on the heels of his hands, his eyes closed and head tilted back, Zayn with his elbows on his knees, looking ahead over the water. 

Yeah, today turned out ok.

\--

"So I actually had an idea for what we can do in the last half of our session."

Zayn looks up from his lap when she says that. So far this session they had gone over various parts of his past relationship with him and Isabelle was trying to show him, from a different point of view, the unhealthy way of living it was.

The thing is it's so hard to think that it was Nathan in the wrong and not he. That Nathan didn’t have the right to control him like he did – claim him as his property. Maybe from the outside it would be easier to pick out – but everything seemed to happen so quick, everything Nathan did to him had been a result of what he had done – an infringement on his part... He just didn't notice it was happening and then it was all too late.  He falls, mentally, into what has haunted him since his breakdown, everything piling onto this one huge pile in his head, just thinking - not panicking - just thinking.

He realizes he's zoned out when he hears Isabelle gently speaking, she's moved to sit next to him on the couch now, her hand tracing gentle patterns onto his back and upper arm. Coaxing him out of his thoughts gently, whispering encouragement, telling him it’s ok and that he can take his time. When he looks up to her he feels rather pathetic.

"Hello." She greets gently. He numbly acknowledges with a nod of his head.

"I was thinking maybe we could try to do some more talking today, get you more comfortable with communication, but if you don't want to that's ok."

He pauses, musing it over before nodding his head, reaching for the whiteboard and writing down  _I'd like that._

"Alright," she stands up, walking back to her seat. If he’s honest he’s just hoping Isabelle can help fix him, especially with the talking and then the sooner she can send him on his way. That was he wouldn’t be such a burden anymore. Isabelle sits down across from him, picking up her board and pen. "Before we do though I just need to warn you, this is not something I can tell you how to do. There is no prescribed method. It comes from meeting me halfway, trusting me to help you out and gaining confidence with it." She uses hand gestures to get her point across. He nods in understanding.

"When you’re ready, I want you to tell me your full name. Remember to use Safe space if you need it."

Zayn nods, taking in a deep breath before opening his mouth, creating the syllables that dance on his tongue. "Z-z-zay-zen-zay-ay-n Ja-javva-ad M-Mali-ik" He mostly mumbles out the 'M' for 'Malik' and by the end of those three words his face is bright red in embarrassment.

"And, please tell me, what’s your favorite color?"

He takes in a deep breath shutting his eyes as he chokes out "pur-pur-purpl-e."

"And when's your birthday?"

"J-Janu-Jan." He sighs, defeated, he’s getting nowhere, no matter how many times he repeats his name or a colour or a date he will always fail. He hides his head in his hands before he stutters out "t-twelv-ve."

He hears nothing from where he has his hands covering his eyes, so he cautiously peeks out to see Isabelle, smiling at him, "congratulations Zayn, you’re doing really, really well.” She looks at him directly, pen poised and static above the paper on her board. “Do you feel like you are?”

He doesn’t look up when he shakes his head.

“Well, that’s to be expected, especially after such a traumatic experience as one that happened at the hospital.” He cringes and slightly panics when he thinks about what happened in there, waking up in that bed and unable to move. The terror that ran through his veins. But before a panic attack is consequently consuming him Isabelle leans forward in her seat, putting her pad and pen off to the side on the table. “It will take time and if you do some talking outside of here you’ll feel much more confident about it and in yourself.”

He shrugs, not sure how to answer.

“Well, for what it’s worth Zayn, I’m proud of you. We haven’t gone in depth about what you went through; remember I promised we could go at your pace? You’re doing that so well, you’re respecting yourself and going at a pace you want to – you may not even realize it’s a form of self-respect or even be thinking that you’re doing anything but you are. I can already tell that there’s more to you and to what happened than has been said so far. Forget doctor-patient for this moment. We are two normal people conversing and I wish to tell you that you are one of the more resilient people I have ever met, and with time, we; that is you, Liam, me, the boys and so on can get through this. We can get through you feeling the way you are to being happy, we can work towards you feeling confident and not so insecure, we can figure out how to make it possible for you to speak without stuttering. You’re not alone anymore – you’ll recognize to take advantage of that sometime in the future and when you do everything will feel ok again."

And for once, he feels like he did an ok job, even if he does want to sob.

\------

**Z A Y N**

That feeling of self-confidence doesn’t last two days.

He didn’t think it was possible to hate himself even more but he does.  

He’s literally sneaking behind Liams back, not only Liams but Isabelle's too. He had asked Liam whether he could please shower before the guys come around for dinner again tonight. Liam tells him that ‘Zayn, this is your home too now, you can do whatever you want and take whatever you need.’

And that’s how he finds himself standing in the shower, a blade in his hands watching the blood from his arm blend with the water and rush down the drainpipe in a way that makes him sick. The hiss of momentary pain and bliss amplified by the water falling down on him, muffling the sounds he makes by biting onto his other arm. He keeps himself in check though. Tells himself _you are not allowed to make more than 10_. _Arms only._ He tells himself over and over again _10 only 10 only_ , and reminding himself he cannot cut into his thighs because if he does it will probably be obvious when he’s walking and sits down at the table tonight.

He feels nothing but guilt, and self-loathing and nearly breaks the 10 only rule when his mind is overrun by the thought of _you useless fuck, you traitor_ raiding his mind. It's like everything just crashed down on him, how much he hated what happened in Isabelle's office; how weak he was and how much he hates himself in general. How much he loathes his existence, every stupid mistake and fault weighting him down. The voices overwhelming him.

10 does nothing more than ease his craving, it's never enough to satisfy him but it does what it needs to.

 “Zayn,” There’s a knock at the un-locked door, “the guys are here and you’ve been in there a while… you ok?” He hears Liam through the door. Zayn shuts his eyes and remembers what Isabelle said after his first attempt at speaking, it makes him feel less useless and that’s helpful – finally, he might lessen the burden that he is. It’s actually strange how it seemed to be so okay to talk. Like, now the weight has been lifted off his vocal chord he just needs to practice.

 “Ye-es, J-jus, just com-ming.” He responds. He has developed this tone around Liam today, the one he used before; during the relationship where things were beginning to get rocky, which he’s still getting right. It’s not bright but it’s not a dull monotone either, just edging past it so it’s believable that he’s ok. Even if the actual speech itself is like he’s shivering uncontrollably. 

He turns the water off and steps out the shower. The blood still pours from the hot water and flows down his arm in this way that fascinates Zayn, he watches the way it webs and branches out, dripping onto the floor. He has to be quick now, pressing wads of toilet paper to his arm and wiping up what fell. 

He’s learnt after living here for nearly a month now that Liam now keeps his medical supplies in a mirrored cabinet above the sink rather than the drawer from before. So, he retrieves one of the rolls of bandage and, when he pats his arm down, wraps it around so it is tight enough around the arm to stop the bleeding and conservative enough that Liam doesn’t notice there’s much missing.

_Look at that, now your stealing his property, what does the make you Zayn? Huh? A thief? Even less than before, God Zayn, don't you take it to the next level?_

His thoughts are cut off again when there’s another soft knock. “Zayn, are ye ok?” Niall’s there now. “Liam sen’t me up t’ check on you.”

 “Y-yeah, I'm f-fine.” He says, sounding a little exasperated, but he knows it's only because they’ve all been told to keep an eye on Zayn according to Harriet and hospital staff. He knows they’re only checking on him because they’re old friends that he abandoned and maybe they want to see if the old Zayn is still here. 

  _He’s not._

 He pulls the towel around his shoulders, and feels very self-conscious still because his shins show. Now he’s eating his ankles look even more bloated and ugh, _you useless fat fuck_. Zayn opens the door and slips out, Niall’s leaning on the wall opposite and greets him with that signature smile. It’s a little off, and Zayn concludes that’s because he’s looking at him.

 “Heya Zayn!” The Irish accent pulls through extra strong for some reason and that tugs Zayns lips up, remembering once upon a time when it was so thick none of them understood it. He nods his head as he moves parallel to the wall and heads towards the guest room. Shutting the door and drying himself off while he selected appropriate attire. A t-shirt under a long sleeved navy blue shirt, long black straight-legged jeans and a purple knit jumper. It probably isn't his best look; it shows off too much fat in his opinion, but at least he’s presentable.

 When he’s ready he leaves the safety of the guest room and venues downstairs, gripping the banister tight enough for his knuckles to turn white as he remembers to breathe it’s just the boys. He feels a little anxious as he approaches the group, not quite sure how to announce his presence until Harry notices and calls out “Zayn!”

 He breathes in a bit too hard at the volume of his voice but shyly waves back, the jumper pulled up to his knuckles. 

 “Awesome, I chose that jumper Zayn! Told you he’d like it.” Louis announces. He seems proud in the last sentence, beaming at the boys around him like it proved some point. Zayn looks at his feet when he walks over. He knows that’s what he’s supposed to do at this moment. 

Liam's in the kitchen with Harry and Louis and Niall are seated around the table, so he takes one and looks at his hands in his lap. Waiting patiently for dinner to be placed in front of him and subsequently have to eat it. All of it.

 It's not 30 seconds after he’s sat down that supper is served, pans thumping as they're placed on iron trivets in the middle of the table and the aroma of Pasta Bolognese fills his senses. That’s the exact moment when he’s not feeling so good.

 Pasta = carbohydrates, Carbohydrates = food, Food = unnecessary.

 His hands are now clammy as he clenches them and unclenches them, telling himself that it's ok, he can go purge after and it’ll all be good. But he’s thrown carbohydrates up before and it's more than not nice. And his thoughts of purging are squashed when he remembers again (because he’s that stupid) that Liam wouldn’t let him out of sight until bed. Until it’s too late to purge it up. 

 He shuts his eyes and breathes in, counting to 10 inhales and exhales before he feels a hand on his shoulder and he looks up to see Liam. He looks concerned, more worried than before and Zayn hates that, why should Liam worry on his behalf? Zayn swallows and tries to say something like ‘looks good,’ but it’s hard to get the words out again so he just hangs his head in shame that he even attempted to do that. He feels tired, and sad, and worthless again and he stares blankly at the hands clenching and unclenching in his lap. 

 “Are you ok?” Liam asks softly, taking the seat to his left and Zayn nods, shooting him as real a smile as he can to tell him yes, he’s ok. When really, inside he’s an absolute mess. He needs that to stop looking like one though because the others are looking at him now, noticing his anxiety and overwhelming awkwardness so he bites his lips for a second and makes his facial expression as neutral as possible. Although he knows it must turn out blank and dead - he just can’t find it in himself to care.

 A spoon of pasta is placed on the plate in front of him, then another and another. A mount is in front of him and he has to remember to breathe, he sweats more and hates how his stomach is rumbling, now he keeps his food down he gets hungry and it's not even hunger pains, just hungry. Bolognese is then placed on top of that and while it may look nothing to what the others have on their plates; less than half, he’s itching to claw out his throat, and he hasn't even taken a bite. 

 He stares at the food, breathing in and out, in and out, psyching himself up to eating it like he now has to every meal. 

The table is dead silent, he feels so awkward because of it and the others must feel it until he picks up his fork. Stabs a piece of pasta, dabs it in the sauce and eventually, painfully, places it in his mouth. 

He must chew this one piece about 30 times before he swallows. The worst thing is, it’s really good and now Niall’s commented on it, congratulating Liam and Harry on their excellent cooking. But that just makes Zayn hate himself even more.

He’s only had about 5 pieces and everybody’s halfway through their meal, despite how over the weeks they’ve practiced slowing down so they eat until their food is cold just like him. They know he’s slower tonight though, slower than usual. 

“So whatcha been doing today then Zayn?” Louis asks him, he looks up and takes this opening as a break from food and feels so grateful for Louis at that point. 

He nods, because it’s been ok, and relaxes his hands with the fork in his lap when he works himself up to saying “j-just be-been.” He breaks because _he’s a worthless fuck and needs a moment._ “All-all right.”

“Yeah, whatcha do?”

He inhales deeply, because his day was less than productive. He spent a few hours on the sofa, staring at the ceiling, and then he had to eat, so he tried to do some exercise, but Liam caught him and he didn’t need to do the house work. So he watched TV, and then had that shower before the boys came around.

“N-not much. Watched some t-tv.”

“Ok then, what did you watch?”

Zayn shrugs; he only watched random shit because if he lay on the couch any longer Liam would know something was up. Liam had to do some things today; otherwise there would’ve been more action. It makes him feel guilty, he should be able to at least help and make himself less useless around here.

“Oh, I see.” Louis tells him, and Zayn doesn't know what he means by that so he focuses on the food again.

He eats another few pieces and is probably now in-between a quarter and halfway through. The others are pushing food around their plates so as to keep with him, but he can’t. He lowers his fork and opens his mouth to speak, tentatively looking at Liam hoping it will silently grasp his attention. It does and Zayn softly tells him “I’m-m fu-ull.”

The boys hear, but they don't say anything, they eat and Louis, thank Louis says something to Harry so he’s not the focus of all their attention. Liam doesn’t look like he approves how much has been eaten. 

“You need to eat more sweetheart.” He says gently.

“B-but I'm f-full.” Zayn tries again. He’s far from it and they all know, his argument is weak and he already knows he’s not getting away with it. But geez, he can’t eat this, ok?  

“Please honey?” Liam shuffles his chair closer and wraps his arms around the bulge of his stomach. He flinches, tensing up in his seat; _no one_ should touch his soft spots. The meager thought that someone could touch something so repulsive sets him even more on edge. He doesn’t need to react further before Liam does, loosening his arms until they hover over the jumper and moves them towards his chest, at the low part of his ribcage and _ok, that’s ok_. Liam looks at him from the side, rubbing at his back. “Please?”

It’s shaky and his breathing is heavier than normal but he raises his fork to his mouth with another two pieces on it and chews. He chews and chews and chews and takes another minute just to swallow it down. 

He’s losing his cool, he can feel his eyes welling but refuses to acknowledge it and ignore the looks he knows he’s getting. Liam continues to eat beside him. 

How was it so easy to eat before? How can the guys eat so much that easily and look as great as they do?  How can they say he needs to eat while he’s sitting there looking like this?

He’s shaking again as he raises another piece to his mouth, clamping his eyes shut as he chews and swallows this piece down. 

It’s the next piece though, he raises it to his mouth, and it’s on his tongue. The taste invades his mouth again when he takes a bite but then he shakes his head. Liam notices and watches as he spits it out. 

“I-I’m sor-. I, I c-can’t.” He shakes his head to further prove his point, the back of the hand holding the fork wiping non-existent sauce off his face.

“Zay-“

“No!” The tears brim the surface and one traitorous one falls, “I-I,” He can’t get words out again, “can’t.”

“Yes, you can honey, I know it’s hard but you can.”

He shakes his head furiously, tears streaming down his face and drops the fork. No.

“Please gorgeous, you need to eat.” Liam’s hugging him again and nosing at his temple.

Tears fall freely as he takes a deep, shuddery breath and he picks up the fork, stabbing one more piece, forcing it in and chewing 10 times over before swallowing. Gasping as if he had surfaced for air after being under water too long.

A chair scrapes and he flinches: Fully expecting to be slapped for answering back, but instead another set of arms encircle him from behind. “C’mon Zee, ye were doin’ so well.” Niall whispers in his ear, placing his warm hand over Zayns cold one, helping him hold the fork in his permanently shell-shocked hand and raising it with food on it to his mouth. He shut his eyes as he opened his mouth for the food and tried to ignore the urge to push everyone away and run to the bathroom, to run out the house and far away from the food. Throw himself over a bridge somewhere or get himself hit by a car, even though that’s just even more selfish on his part. 

All he’s thankful for as they painfully finish the food is that no one made any airplane noises, if that happened then he would’ve had to go kill himself somehow.

His plate is finished and his stomach is now actually full when Liam kisses his temple.

“Thank you so much gorgeous.” Liam thanks him as tears stream down his face and the unwanted sobs begin to rack his body, he lets himself be pulled into Liam’s neck and feels Niall rubbing his upper arms.

He feels like utter, utter shit. Complete scum when they do that, make him seem worth something. Make him seem important. 

 ------

Later on that night when the boys are gone and they're getting ready for bed Zayn realizes his mistake.

 He was so out of it after the event of supper that he completely forgot about the cuts made this week and earlier on in the day. He had been doing so well beforehand, nearly 6 days clean. Liam had been looking, but in the last week and a bit he hadn’t been, providing him with his opportunity to spill the pain from his veins, drain the agony out by carving his wretchedness onto his body.

They’re in the guest room with Liam helping him get ready for bed. Zayn’s already changed his shirt but the thing is that he has on the t-shirt and not the long sleeved one because that’s in the wash. He has his arms to his chest instinctually but when Liam hands him the pyjama bottoms he almost – _presents –_ his arm to Liam. He didn’t even realize, _how stupid of him_. Didn’t even think as he numbly stared off into space, exhausted by the events at supper. There’s a gasp that stirs him from his secluded world.

He looks down and sees where Liam’s gaping at. The fresh cuts on his forearms from earlier. Without a word Liam is pulling up his jean leg – the material spacious enough around his flesh to push the hem all the way up to his mid-thigh. He can’t move fast enough before Liam sees the day old ones that litter his thighs and older ones from the days before that, now they extend down so they’re only a few inches above his knees. Liam stands up, right over him and Zayns heart stops – convinced that Liam’s going to hit him.

_I’ve been bad, I’ve been bad, I’ve been bad._

Liam must notice the panic that flashes through his eyes and steps a little away from him to give him some space, attempting to take his hands into his own.

 “Zayn… you said you were ok earlier. This isn’t ok.”

Instinct takes over once the initial shock wears off and he uses his arms to hide himself. “I-I,” He tries to search for an excuse as he averts his gaze everywhere but towards Liam, “Ju-I…Pl,” He can't get anything out again. He feels exposed - put on display. There’s now an urge to make more cuts, and just not on his arm, but his thighs, his hips and stomach and maybe one long deep one across his neck. The itch at the back of his throat is back with force and he cannot scratch it. 

Liam takes a step forward when he backs away, his hands are held up in a stance which is the least threatening he can seem to muster, “hey, Zayn, please don’t back away. Please babe?”

He can't back away anymore anyway, his back is pressed against the wall and he shakes his head. Liam steps slowly towards him. “When did you do them honey?” He asks, so soft. He’s closer now, nearly touching him. Liam reaches a hand out and caresses his cheek - so soft, so fragile as if he’s touching glass and he can feel the resolve wavering. That touch shatters him to a million pieces and with more force than any punch or kick Nathan delivered. “What did you do them with?”

He shakes his head even more, refusing to give in and tell him, refusing to even look at him. His breathing is heavy now; an anxiety attack is barreling towards him and he can feel it. “Hey, hey, it’s ok Zayn, it’s ok.” The tears that are now welling in both sets of their eyes completely contradict that sentence. He’s feeling frustrated now, because he’s determined to stay standing, desperately stay strong as he can and not give in. Not sag into Liams warm arms, but he does, as Liam reminds him to breathe. A sob comes from him and his knobbly knees give out; but Liam catches him, as always he catches him and holds him so good, so close. Hands trail up and down his back and ‘it's ok’, ‘shush’ and ‘it's alright beautiful’ are whispered into his ear. He fists the material of Liams shoulder. As he gasps for air, drinking it in because he feels like he’s drowning and Liam is a rock out in the middle of the raging sea, offering support, offering shelter. Liam hushes him, rubbing and patting his back as he controls his breathing heavily through his nostrils. Not allowing his knees to unlock anymore than they have because he just can’t afford to break anymore than he’s already shattered.

“Can you please just tell me when you did them and how?” Liam whispers into his ear softly; he does that a lot now, Zayns noticed, hushed whispers and quiet voices; like he knows Zayn can’t handle volume and bluntness. Liam kisses the shell of his ear. “I promise I’m not mad gorgeous. I promise, but please tell me."

It's not a demand, more like a hopeful question, his voice cracks ever so slightly at the end and Zayns wall breaks because of it. “L-last ni-ight.” He forces out. “I-I’m so-so-sorr-y.” He’s only talking about the ones on his thighs. He will not admit to the shower he had earlier.

Liam hums under his breath, concerned and not obnoxious, and in a moment he places a kiss on his forehead. “It's ok darling, it's ok.” They stay like that for a while, long enough for both their tears to stop. “Can you please tell me what you did them with?”

Zayn just stays quiet. He can't admit to the stowed-away blades he has. 

“Can you maybe tell me where they are then, like - so you don't have to say?”

He shakes his head vigorously. He doesn't care how bitchy that is he’s not telling him. 

“Please?”

He shakes his head harder, hiding his face in the crook of Liams neck hoping beyond hope that either Liam will stop or hit him. He deserves it, really, he does. 

“Ok,” It's a sigh, but he doesn't sound disappointed. “You know I can’t let you keep doing that though, right? That I’m going to have to look around and get rid of them?” 

He sobs again, nodding, because yeah, he knew it.  

-

Liam finds two of his blades, in his bedside drawer (in hind sight it was one of the most obvious places). All that he’s glad for is that Liam doesn't ask if there are more. Just puts him to bed and this time stays until he falls into a restless sleep. Smoothing his hair across his forehead in a way that takes all his power not to nuzzle into it. 

Smoothing his hair in a way that proves useful in a few hours time when he wakes up screaming. In a way that works best when he noses into Liams strong chest and has an arm holding his head protectively, drawing the blanket up around his shoulders and effectively tucking him in as he succumbs to exhaustion and tries (fails) to sleep again for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS I HAVE SO MUCH MORE OK, IM SO SORRY IVE BEEN AWAY AND THEN I WROTE SO MUCH AND I WAS JUST DOING MY FINAL EDIT AND I DIDNT FINISH WRITING THIS ONE BIT SO ILL DO THAT ASAP AND THEN THERES A LOT I PROMISE, IM SORRY IT'S BEEN SO LONG I'VE BEEN GOING THROUGH A REALLY TOUGH TIME ADN IM STARTING MY LAST YEAR OF SCHOOL IN TWO DAYS SO IM NOT FREAKING OUT, NO, NOT AT ALL (AHA, I SORTA AM). THANK YOU ALL FOR THE SUPPORT AND KUDOS IT MEANS A LOT SO PLEASE COMMENT WHAT YOU THINK AND WHAT YOU THINK MAY HAPPEN HAVE A GREAT DAY!!


	15. Decision-Making and Phone Calls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I'VE BEEN SO BUSY AND I KNOW THAT'S NOT REALLY A GOOD EXCUSE BUT IT'S TRUE AND IT'S ALL I HAVE, I HAVE ANOTHER CHAPTER COMING UP TONIGHT SO TWO CHAPTERS IN ONE NIGHT (AHA IM A BIT TIRED RN) I HOPE YOU LIKE AND I REALLY HOPE TO HAVE MORE FOR YOU IN THE NOT TOO DISTANT FUTURE, THANKS SO MUCH FOR ALL THE COMMENTS AND SUPPORT, I HAVE READ THEM AND I REALLY APPRECIATE IT, THANKS AGAIN AND ENJOY!!

**L I A M**

_(Ring ring ring ring)_

_Hey Isabelle_

_Hello Liam, i was calling to see how Zayns doing today?_

_Oh yeah, he seems to be - well, alright. Not exactly perky but he seems to have withdrawn into himself quite a bit which is worrying me if I'm honest. He had a nightmare again last night and dint really sleep well afterwards._

_I was thinking that would happen. I do believe it's a result of PTSD, since it's been over a month now it's possible to officially diagnose it._

_Oh yeah! I did the research on that, completely forgot. Damn it._

_It's nothing to stress over Liam, you're doing a fantastic job so far, forgetting one thing isn't the end of the world._

_Yeah, but... I just wish i could do more. Liam, you and the boys have done more than I've ever seen. Take my word for it. Alright then, i will. Is there anything i can do to help him then?_

_Not much I'm afraid, PTSD goes when he himself talks things through. You can't do much more for him than your already doing. He zones out a lot i know, he did it for a session recently but thats to be expected. We have to be patient._

_Ah. Ok then._

_And one more thing, i got a call from Harriet recently, the matter of pressing Nathan has come up and Zayn needs to make a decision otherwise it'll be harder to do._

_Oh. Shit. Whoops- sorry, didnt mean to swear._

_It's fine Liam, anyway. Harriet asked wether all four of us could meet to have a chat. Maybe convince Zayn to charge him or at least help him and support his decision._

_Yes, that sounds alright, when then?_

_Since the decision needs to be made within the next week or so, Harriet really drag it to the last minute for him, i was hoping we could organise for tomorrow during his session?_

_Yeah, that's ok, that works, i'll mention it to him._

_Oh yes, please do._

_I have a question to ask._

_Yes?_

_Well, i was looking up classes at the gym i used to go to and they have yoga and stuff so i was wondering when i should ask him if he wants a go? And i was also wondering when the calorie count should update because he's still just too thin from what i can see and he never seems to have enough energy._

_Well, in terms of yoga whenever really. About now would be good for him to start and with a bit of luck he'll begin relaxing and stop overthinking things, as for the calorie uptake i can't give you an official answer because we haven't gone past anything but techniques to help him eat. the fact is that he went a long time without much food while doing a lot of strenuous activity and his body and mind has adapted to it, because of that things are so much harder. Professionally, i'd advise as soon as he starts getting more comfortable with the amount at the moment, anything he eats is progress at this stage because of how withdrawn he still is but hopefully soon that'll all change. It is my professional opinion you consult other experts on nutrition, i can give you a few contacts if you want for when he feels comfortable enough with this. Has anything happened recently that i should know of?_

_Well just last night he had a breakdown over Supper bless him, he didn't want to eat it at all - you could just see it... Niall really helped out so he ate it eventually but i took a lot._

_Hmm, how did he seem before?_

_Tense._

_Were you able to check how he was doing from a self-harm point of view?_

_Yes, he relapsed. He said they were from last night but they looked too fresh, i have this awful feeling he's cutting in the shower. What should i do?_

_Honestly, if you confront him he may just withdraw even further, i hate to say it but as long as he's not cutting as much he's doing ok. Were they all fresh or just healing or...?_

_No, the majority were older, he only had a few fresh ones on his arm._

_Well, i hate to say it but its the lesser of the two pains, if he's doing fewer and fewer thats - not ok - but better than what he's been doing otherwise. You mentioned that the others were older so it's possible he's going longer periods without cutting._

_Yes, that's what it looked like._

_Great, good on him. Do you have an ice cube tray?_

_Er... yes, why?_

_A good method for a self-harmer, in this instance Zayn, to use if to either draw over the area he wants to cut if he's urging or to press ice cubes to the limb. It means he's still getting some form of physical feeling but in a non self-destructive way. I'd advise for you to have ice cubes on hand._

_Oh, thank you for that._

_No worries, i told him that in one of our recent sessions but i know he was zoning out a lot in that session, he doesnt mean it but it'll happen, we just have to cope and be patient as i've mentioned._

_Ok, that's really answered everything for me, thanks Isabelle._

_No problem Liam, i also have one more thing._

_Yes?_

_Have a good day both of you, I'll see you both tomorrow._

_Aha, thanks Isabelle you too._  

 

\------

When he gets home an hour later he is delighted to see Zayn and Harry in the living room playing a game, it is certainly a development from Zayn laying on the sofa or being unresponsive, it's actually the best thing he's seen so far today and couldn't stop his smile if he tried.

"Hey Liam." Harry greets him, Zayn gives him a small wave. 

"Hey guys, scrabble huh?" He addresses Zayn directly, pleased to see him actually look up at him for a moment before he nods. He gestures to the board and passes Liam a rack for the letters.

"Oh no no thank you, I have enough trouble with my vocab. I'll just join you if that's ok?"

Zayn doesn't look up but nods from where he looks at the board.

Liam takes a seat on the floor next to him, reaching up behind him to grab the blanket that rests on the sofa and draw it down to over Zayns shoulders, Liam can see how cold he is just by looking at him. Zayn himself probably doesn't notice anymore but he always does and always will.

He watches over Zayns shoulder, wondering how he's so good with seeing the combination of words in front of him, marvelling at how intelligent Zayn really is.

When he voices this opinion after the game is finished and they're packing it away Zayn gets shy again and Liam finds it ever so endearing. Really, how can this lovely, intelligent man be so doubtful in his talents? Liam will never really know, well, maybe now he will but Louis always told him that he thought that because he loved Zayn.

And he does, he knows that, they grew up together and know everything too up until when Zayn just disappeared a few years ago, they've both changed but that's ok. He was always hopeful before Nathan came around, but then Zayn was with Nathan and everything happened. He knows Zayn isn't ready for a relationship - he isn't either, so he'll just be there like he always had and, well, what happens happens, all he really ever wanted was for Zayn to be happy. Happy and safe.

\------

**Z A Y N**

 

It comes as a surprise that with his next session he and Isabelle are not the only ones in the room. Liam warned him beforehand but he has a habit nowadays of zoning out on the important pieces of information. He doesn’t mean too, it just happens.

Regardless, seeing Harriet when they walk into Isabelle's office comes as a semi-surprise. "Good Morning Zayn, Liam." Harriet smiles. This time she's wearing a navy jacket and beige chinos. Her black clipboard in hand and a briefcase leant near her legs against the other couch - not the one he sits on. Instead the two-seater couch nearer to Isabelle's chair. 

He picks up his hand and waves gently back, looking at her between her eyes. 

 

“I’m here because the matter of whether or not you want to charge Nathan needs to be decided in the near future.” She tells him directly when they’ve all settled down.

Zayn audibly gulps when she does, he doesn’t know what to do. He can’t send him to jail, he just _can’t_.

 

Harriet pulls out a set of documents from her clipboard. “I understand that you feel strange about this and that’s ok, you don’t need to do too much because I’ve done it all in advance for you. Here,” She hands him the set of documents. “These are doctors certificates, and these,” she points to the places as she speaks, “are x-rays that prove the injuries he inflicted on you.”

 

Zayn still doesn’t say anything, a little in shock at how quickly she moved, how she went straight into it. It's shocking and a bit confronting.

 

“Everything in this set of documents prove what Nathan,” Zayn twitches slightly, “did to you. It is all solid evidence that he has no chance to deny, no choice but to admit to. It means for sure that you never see him again and more importantly he cannot hurt you.”

 

He exhales with a shudder, a small “oh,” falling from his lips. He didn’t realize until now that Liam has had an arm around him until now, small soft patterns slowly soothing him, rubbing little whimsical patterns and circles over his hips and arms and back. He feels slightly put on the spot with this, very uncomfortable.

 

“All that comes from you is to actually say you want to charge him,” She says, quieter than the other times, leaning forward so he’s looking at her closely. “And to show up on the court date and nod, ‘yes, he did this to me.’ That’s all there is to it.”

 

Zayn peeks up from where he’d looked down again, “Oh.” Coming out again.

 

“So, Zayn,” Harriet asks apprehensively, “Do you want to charge him?”

 

He doesn’t answer, not immediately, doesn’t say. He looks to Liam because if there’s anyone in this world that sort of understands him it’s Liam. Liam looks hopeful, like Zayn will say yes but he, he just can’t. He looks back down in his lap, trying to stop the internal tremor becoming external. The silence ebbs at his very soul and he could cut the tension with a knife. He’s frozen, stuck in place in a mix of indecisiveness and fear. He doesn’t say anything; he feels nothing until Liam kisses his temple, whispering quietly; “Maybe if the boys were here they could help out with your choice, we can all give our opinion?” Zayn nods, relieved that he can break from this decision – one he doesn’t want to make and he knows he shouldn’t but also knows he should.

 

(He confuses himself a lot).

 

He doesn’t say much as the other three go into a discussion about him and his current health once Liams called the others. It doesn’t bother him as much as he thinks it should do, but it doesn’t when Liam is holding him and soothing him, rubbing his back and arms so gently, and kissing his forehead, his hair; his temple. Here he feels sheltered and protected, it sounds stupid even to his own ears and he doesn’t want to admit it aloud. It’s strange how much he’s beginning to think about asking Isabelle some things now, now they’re talking over him and discussing how well he is doing and commemorating him, agreeing briefly how disgusting it was for N _-him_ to treat him this way. At one point Harriet told him that he was safe now, never was he going to be hurt again. That particular thought really stuck in his mind, that he couldn’t be hurt anymore – even though he deserved it. That’s where he was really at the crossroads. Liam was treating him so well, along with the boys and always telling him he never deserved to be treated that way but he believes that he did… and now there’s an opportunity for him to be safe with them forever but it means facing him and he never wants to do that because he’ll get hurt – N-he would kill him, but Liam would never let that happen and now his thoughts are just too crossed over and confusing.

 

He feels his hands getting clammy and his breath is getting a little short. Liam must notice it too because next thing he knows is he’s on Liams lap sideways, tucked under his chin with one arm looped around his torso and the other flat against his cheek. Hugging him tightly. Liam starts whispering into his ear, little nothings just for him. He can feel him hum against his body and its so relaxing and soothing the incessant and unceasing thoughts in his head. 

 

They stay like that; just to two of them pressed against each other, Zayn even moves his hand to clutch the front of Liams shirt, surprising himself at how small and bony his fist is against the expanse of Liams broad and firm chest, how the material of his shirt is so easily wrapped around his knuckles. They completely ignore the observing party until Louis; the first third arrives. He almost immediately takes his place next to Liam and Zayn on the couch. A hand going around his ankle, rubbing little circles against the tattoo there. It’s a fond memory and he sees Louis smile at him, he tries to return it but he can't really make himself and it comes out more as a grimace – Louis still smiles though which is better than the initial paling when he first walked into the room, and Louis joins in their conversation. 

 

“Sorry guys, got lost,” He hears Harry chuckle when he strolls in 10 minutes after. 

“It was all his fault really, I told him it was left,” Niall adds in. Zayns not facing the door so he didn’t see either of them and Niall makes him jump a little, not much but enough that Liam leans down to look right into his eyes. Asking that silent _'are you ok?'_ That they’ve now built up between them. He nods briefly, sitting up and popping his back from where he’s curled into Liam. Harry sits near Harriet opposite them in a chair he just pulled up, close enough that their knees are only a centimeter from touching, and Niall has managed to squish into the other side of Liam. While he quietly observes the seating plan the others have explained the situation at hand.

 

“I want you to do it.” 

 

Niall’s voice, so present in that moment startles Zayn out of his thoughts, his silent reverie. He looks up to see Niall’s eyes are watering. 

 

“I know we can’t make the decision for you, and that you’ve got a lot going on in your head right now, and maybe charging him seems wrong but I want you to do it. Because he hurt you and you’re still hurting and we can stop that, but if you don’t charge him he won’t get what he deserves.” Progressively, all their eyes turn redder or wetter. He then finds out so does his own.

 

Harry takes over from Niall when he has his breather. “You never, ever, ever, deserved anything that he did, and we know you think that way right now but you didn’t... He,” Harry pauses, covering his hand over his mouth as if to wipe non-existence mess away, sniffing as he does, ”He however does deserve jail for what he’s done. He deserves to go to hell for what he did and I can’t bear the though of him walking free without paying for how he hurt you. I can't stomach the though of you never feeling safe or happy again.” 

 

Liam’s already told him all this before, it’s a weekly thing, but now, hearing it from the other boys is like hearing it for the first time. He’s not sure how he can do this without the guilt eating at him. 

He turns to Louis, hoping his facial express with ask the question he can’t say aloud. 

 

“I agree 100%, I want you to charge him.” Louis says with complete honesty. “Even if you don’t we’re all going to band together and kill him one way or another,” he attempts to joke but he looks too emotional for it. He wipes down his face to get rid of the tears falling down his face and that’s when Zayn feels the worst, because now he can’t say no and even though he was contemplating charging Nathan anyway, there’s no way he can’t say he won’t because these boys are crying and he can’t have that, can’t have someone cry over him, especially these boys. “And like,” he continues “if you think that we would let you ever feel unsafe think again because we will defend you and protect you until the very end, we love you and we’ll always be here, whether you think so or not, we’re always here, forever, no matter what.” Louis keeps nodding his head, like he’s never been surer of anything, using his hands to wipe at his face again.

 

“I – we love you Zayn.” Liam says quietly behind him. He twists back around to look at him; they’re so so close now. Liam’s eyes are as watery as his and so intense. “Babe, I don’t want to see you hurting, and he’s hurting you. If you don’t charge him you might never feel safe again, even with us and everyone else and …” Liam looses what he’s saying. Biting his lip as he caresses the side of his face, his thick, calloused hands tangling in his hair in a way that he loves because it’s so soothing and nice and it isn’t to hurt him, isn’t to drag him across the floor, it’s to calm him and hold him in the best way possible. “Bottom line is,” Liam starts again. “We want you too, I think it’ll really help you, even if you don’t feel that right now, it will help you, I promise beautiful, I promise. If you charge him you’ll feel so much safer and so much better, you might not notice it right now but it’ll be a weight off your shoulders and we’ll take care of you gorgeous, you never have to worry again, I’ll take care of you, forever and ever. We’ll never hurt you, we’ll never force you into things, we’ll never make you do this or that, you can do your art all you want again, you can start playing the piano again, we will help you with whatever you need. You can see your parents again, anytime you want, and Waliyha and Doniyha and Safaa. It’ll be so much better lovely, you’ll feel happier, and it’ll be so good. I promise baby. Don’t think you have to feel bad or guilty about this because it’s so ok, more than ok I promise, I promise. We can’t make you charge him but I really hope you do, and even if you don’t that’s ok, we can still work around it and we can still do whatever you want and we’ll protect you but if you charge him you’ll feel better, I promise darling, I promise.”

 

Zayn near sobs when Liam finishes, he can’t process what he feels and everything’s dizzy but he knows that his mind is made up; he nods his head into Liam’s neck. 

 

“Ok.”

 

It’s quiet, so so quiet to even his own ears but he knows Harriet heard him.

 

“Ok… as in yes you want to charge Nathan?” Harriet clarifies.

 

He nods his head again, this time looking up, straight at her and mustering the bravest face he can put on, nodding his head again, firmly to seal the decision. Yes, yes he’ll do this before his head falls down again to his lap. How is it possible to be this exhausted all the time?

 

He hears multiple sighs of what sounds like relief. That’s when he looks up, nervous, skitterish, he meets Harry’s gaze first. Two watery eyes accompany the smile sent back his way. Liam takes to kissing him temple.

“Thank you,” he hears Liam whisper into his ear. “Thank you for choosing your safety and health darling, thank you.” It’s so quiet nobody else can hear it but it sends Zayns heart to the pit of his stomach. He’s not sure how to process this, doesn’t know how to feel at all. He feels so lost, so isolated and yet grounded, Liam caresses him from where they sit as Harriet busies herself by filing her papers back into her briefcase and taking her leave. Her hand rests on his shoulders briefly.

 

“This will all be over soon Zayn, I’m glad you chose to charge him, what he did was wrong and I hope you start to see it soon.”

 

Everybody is telling him this thing though, it’s like they enforce their opinion without even knowing and he can’t decide whether he’s ok with that or not.

 

 --

 

He’s so stiff in the car on the way back home, his back straight as a ruler and gaze fixed straight ahead. Liam has a hand on his thigh, not tight or possessive like he used to be but gentle and warm. He remains like that, involuntarily, until they get back home. He feels even worse because he knew that Liam was talking about them going out after to find Niall a birthday present, it being within the next fortnight (“but only if you want Zayn, if you don’t feel like going out to a popular place then that’s ok, we’ll do it another time or even online.”) When they do, Liam as usual opens the door for him and guides him out of the low car with a gentle hand on the small of his back and another under his arm, like his legs can’t fully support his own body.

 

(He’s not sure they do a lot of the time, it wouldn’t be an uncommon occasion that his legs buckle beneath him).

 

He’s trapped in his head, despite having a few minutes with Isabelle to suss things out before leaving, although all they really talked about was that yes, he was his intent to charge Nathan and while Isabelle attempted to coax him to tell her what he was feeling he was having none of it. He’s so confused with everything he doesn’t know how to get out of his own head and it makes his breath short and head spin. 

 

The moment he thinks that is coincidentally the same moment that his legs do give out from under him and if it weren’t for Liam he would’ve crashed to the floor. 

 

Liam sweeps him up bridal style and carries him upstairs to the guest room while peppering kisses to his face and hair and whispering sweet nothings into his ear, setting him down on top of the covers.

“Stay here darling I’ll be back in a sec.” Liam says, disappearing for a minute before he comes back with water and a damp flannel. Zayns hand shakes as Liam holds out the plastic cup. He never really lets go of the glass, instead choosing to take the spot next to him and support his upper body when he sits up, letting go just enough for his own hands to slide around the transparent object where Liams huge hand covered his up. 

“Slow sips darling, slow, slow, take your time gorgeous.” Liam’s not demanding when he speaks, his voice is sooth like honey and a sore throat.

Just as he’s finished drinking the water Liam places the cool flannel over his forehead. It feels so good he nearly whimpers. 

 

“Sssh, sssh, ok baby.” Liam soothes, taking the flannel away for a moment to unbutton Zayns jacket and pull his jumper off, leaving him in just his shirt and then moving to lay him back against the covers. A hand on the back of his head and another between his shoulder blades, slowly, ever so slowly laying him down.

 

“Gorgeous I’m just taking off your jeans so it’s more comfortable ok?”

 

Zayn nods numbly, letting the coolness of the flannel soak into the roots of his hair. It’s so nice, so nice. 

 

Liam is quick about getting his jeans off and pulling the sheets out from under him before tucking them in around him, the softness of the duvet caressing his legs and arms. When Liam again presses the flannel to his forehead he sighs, the cold soothing over his headache.

 

Liam peppers kisses all over his face, using his free hand as support in the space next to Zayns head before smoothing the flannel over his forehead securely, kissing his hair and patting the covers around him again. 

 

“Rest up gorgeous,” Liam whispers into his ear, “I’ll just be downstairs.”

 

The door clicks and for a moment there Zayn thought he could sleep but now he feels wide awake, staring at the ceiling as what has happened today truly sinks in. His breath catches in his throat as he thinks about all the ways Nathan could hurt him – did hurt him - and all the possible ways he could be murdered. His throat clogs up and a pitiful cry escapes his lips, muffled by the hand he slaps over his mouth just before the sound could be emitted. 

 

He curls into himself on his side in the bed, tugging the covers under his chin as he lets his body be racked by sobs. Ugly, hardly muffled, gasping sobs. His hands come in contact with the bumpy skin of his scarred thighs and he can’t think of anything but how much he wants to tear his skin and feel the burn. Can’t help but think of how much he deserves to feel that sting, that he is not worthy of this soft bed and that only makes him cry out more, he bites into his arm hoping that Liam didn’t hear him, he wouldn’t forgive himself if Liam heard him and wasted his time coming up the stairs to see him; to see fat, plain, fucked up Zayn. It doesn’t matter than Zayn wants him to be here, that he loves the feeling of Liam holding him because he never earned it. All he did was sit and cry and Liam being the selfless god he is decided it was a good idea – having known him most his life – to swoop in and try save him from the mess that he is, save him from the voices inside his head, the ones that are talking right now, coaxing him to end his sorry life.

 

Zayn pushes himself up, shaking with the force of his sobs and makes his way to the bathroom before realizing that he doesn’t have any blades in there anymore - that Liam found them and the ones on the bedside table. He calms himself down enough and pats his swollen eyes down with tissue. Then, leaving the guest room he goes to Liams because if he doesn’t do something about the voices that scream at him he’ll not have much more of a choice than to actually end himself – something that while is on the table he hasn’t acted upon since living here.

 

There is a pair of scissors in this room and he knows it, because he was in here yesterday while Liam talked about Niall’s present and he saw them. He finds them on the dresser and retreats back to the guest room bathroom where he can't help himself – he does it, holding the scissors the wrong way and sliding the sharp edge against his forearm.

 

 _5 and 5 only. 5 only. 5 only_. He repeats in his head like a mantra, _5 only_.

He can't stop crying as he does, can’t stop shaking either so instead of being clean straight cuts they’re ragged and varying in depth. His knees give out again and the only thing that stops his fall is the last minute catchment on the sink, his knuckles going white as the porcelain when he pushes himself back to a standing position with a groan. He unrolls some of the toilet paper and pats his forearm, there’s not a lot of blood so it doesn’t take much for it to stop fortunately, so he won't need any bandages. The sink has become bloodied in the meantime, and when he fell he dropped the scissors in there so he runs the tap so it washes down the drain. From there he hides the scissors in the bottom drawer under the sink and retreats back to the guest room, slipping on a cardigan because he feels so cold now and collapses back into bed, crying himself to sleep. 

 

\------------------------------------

 

**L I A M**

 

The moment he sees Zayn wearing a cardigan when he goes upstairs an hour later is the moment he knows something is wrong. It means he got up, it means he has left bed and not been sleeping, it means he was alone in the mindset that he is in and may have acted upon it.

 

Zayn gasps when Liam seizes his wrist. Liam sees him look up with panicked eyes and Liam loosens his grip a bit. He didn't mean to grab so hard but he swiftly, and as gently as possible, yanks up Zayn's sleeve, exposing 5 new cuts. Zayn lets out a combination of a shriek and a sob. "No! No please no!" 

Liam gapes. "Zayn, please I can't let you keep doing this to yourself." His voice is shaky and choked up as tears stream down his face. He already knows when Zayn did this, when he left him alone to sleep, how come he couldn’t sleep? He thinks, he’s exhausted.

 

Zayn shakes his head violently, pulling his arm back sharply in distress. Liam sees this and lets go. Zayn shrinks back in retaliation. "P-please, Liam-m you-you don't understand I-I need them." His voice cracks mid sentence. 

"Why do you need them baby?" Liam takes a step forward to cup his cheek but Zayn shrinks away from him. Flinching further into the corner. 

Zayn keeps on looking around frantically, sobbing and digging the heel of his hands into his eyes before moving his hands to his hair and violently tugging on it. 

 

Liam gently reaches out when he sees this and encompasses his small hands into his. Thumbing them in little circles. Liam takes a deep breath, calming himself as much as possible before he proceeds. "Why do you need them darling? I promise I'm not mad." Zayn shivers and meets Liam's concerned gaze. He doesn't answer immediately, instead shutting his eyes and getting his breathing under semi-control. Suddenly they burst wide open and Liam sees nothing short of terror in those hazel orbs, he wants that gone, forever, erased from not only Zayns but also his own memory.

 

"Th-the voices! Pl-please I need t-to stop them." It's like he spits them out in utter disgust. Repulsed by what he's admitting. He slides down the wall. Letting go of Liam's hands and pulling his own into his chest. 

"Voices? What voices darling?" Liam confused... what voices are Zayn hearing?

Zayn shudders when he crouches down to his level and it’s like he’s incapacitated, like he can't help the overwhelming anxiety that takes over him. He begins hyperventilating again as he chokes out what he says. "I-I hear the-them. Th-They remind me of ev-ev-erything and it's the only wa-ay to stop them." Zayn gasps as he sobs. Clawing at the floor to regain some form of control. Liam can't respond before Zayn's hyperventilating gets worse and what he says next comes out in a terrified, high-pitched sob. "Please I'll be a good boy but please I-I need my blade. Please. That's all I need. I'll be good I promise. Any-anything but I-I need my blade. Please please _please_. I promise." Zayn shakes from where he's crawled into himself. "I need them to stop. _Please_." He finishes with a whisper. Gasping as he screws his eyes shut and feebly attempts to calm himself down.  

"Oh baby." Liam whimpers. Because how do you respond to that? He rubs Zayn's upper arms. Soothing him, hushing him before he proceeds. Hoping to not sound as desperate as he truly is. "Babe, babe, listen ok? We're gonna get rid of them ok?" Coaxing Zayn to look at him.

Zayn sobs. Shaking his head. "You can't. You can't. I-I've tried." His voice gets progressively higher as he breaks down. 

"Yes." Liam cuts in. Moving closer to Zayn this time. "Yes, yes we can," he gently takes hold of Zayn's face. Looking him dead in the eye, "and we will." Liam's surprised at the resolution in his own voice but they will get through this. Zayn's still shaking like a leaf and crying but that's ok. Because they're communicating. Finally, finally Zayn's talking to him and they can work from there. Liam gives him a weak watery smile. "It's ok babe, we'll get there. See? We'll get there."

Zayn gives him this look of utter defeat. With shaky breathing and sniffing he shakes his head. Screwing his eyes. 

"We will Zayn," because Liam knows what he's implying. "We will, and that's a promise. Till I'm six feet under, dead in the ground I promise that we will get there."

"I-I've tried." Zayn's voice is so weak and raspy. 

"You're not alone anymore in this Zayn." Liam cups his face. "I know you've tried. I know you have and I am so proud of you but you can't do this alone and you won't need to either. We will get through this; it's no longer just you versus the world. It's us now. And the boys would join us in a heartbeat, and your parents. You're not alone anymore Zayn, and you won't ever be again. I care about you so much, we’ve known each other for such a long time and I’m not giving up on you ever, I don’t want to and I don’t want you to either." 

Liam's hands have moved from cupping his face to holding Zayn's head with fingers in his hair. Zayn looks so exhausted to him. Wet, red-rimmed eyes bagging, face and body still too thin to be healthy and the dull look he gives Liam. Like he's truly given up and Liam wants to cry - he does it actually - someone as amazing as Zayn, so defeated and run down as he is now.

Liam wipes his eyes. "C'mon darling, let me clean you up right." He cocks his head off to the side towards the bathroom. 

Zayn whimpers, crying more. "I don't want to move." He weeps. Liam shushes him, rubbing his back. "You don't have to." 

He gestures for Zayn to lean a bit forward and hugs him, moving an arm beneath his thighs and hoisting the two of them up. Zayn clings to him like a baby monkey, hiding himself in Liam's neck as he continues to sniffle and sob. 

 

Liam kisses his temple and hair, using his freer hand to rub and massage his skin. Hushing him, humming gently as he walks them to the bathroom. He sets Zayn down on the toilet seat and places a kiss to his forehead. “One moment lovely,” he says quietly before reaching for a big fluffy towel off the top shelf in the cupboard, wrapping it around Zayns shoulders and back, pooling it in his lap for a feeling of warmth and security, even if only for this time of cleaning up. When he pulls back he sees Zayn's eyes shut and face a lot more relaxed. He then sets about cleaning up the cuts; relieved the ones he found are the only ones. When he's done he hugs Zayn again, kissing his temples and rubbing his back. 

"Zayn?" He asks quietly. Pulling back slightly to look at him in the face. Zayn nods, meeting his eyes. "Did you purge too?" It's so, so quiet and Zayn shakes his head.

“No, no, I promise.” He mumbles, Liam can’t help but compare him to his baby niece Maya, with the tired drooping eyes and how small he is in the towel. 

Liam kisses his forehead again, “I believe you.” He whispers, then, taking Zayns chin and cheek in the palm of his hand and gently coaxing him to meet his eyes. “I believe in you.”

 

\------------------

 

_Ring ring. Ring ring._

_“Hello. This is Isabelle Dooley.”_

 

_“Hi Isabelle, it’s Liam.”_

 

_“Oh, hi Liam, is everything ok?”_

 

_“Erm, not really, sorry to call this late – I just got Zayn to sleep but I thought it was important to let you know he relapsed again today.”_

 

_“Ahh, I see. How bad?”_

 

_“Not too bad, only five on his arm this time.”_

 

_“Ok, that’s much better. Progress already.”_

 

_“Is it?”_

 

_“Well, it’s not ideal and certainly not what we’re aiming for – but it’s better than say 10 on his arm.”_

 

_“Oh, I see what you mean now.”_

 

_“Did you find out whether it was from what we all discussed yesterday?”_

 

_“No, but I don’t think its unwise to assume that is what triggered him this time.”_

 

_“Well, new day tomorrow, ready to start again.”_

 

_“Yeah, positivity and all that.”_

 

_“Can you please briefly tell me what happened?”_

 

_“Well I admit it may not have been the best, but basically what happened is that I noticed something on his arm and yanked up the sleeve. I saw of course and asked him what happened – I promise I was a gentle as possible, I didn’t raise my voice or anything – but he panicked anyway and hyperventilated so I just got him to calm down before cleaning his arm and taking him downstairs to get his mind off it. He was obviously tired so I got him up to bed again and now I’m just outside the door looking in.”_

 

_“Sounds like he had a panic attack, as you know that take out about the same amount of energy a marathon do. Now, it seems they are becoming a common thing so this is what needs to happen from now on when you see him having an attack, I’m almost sure you do a similar thing already but just so you know the best way regardless.”_

 

_“Ok, I’m listening.”_

 

_“One, you need to get him to a quieter place if possible. Two, you need to wrap your arms around him tightly, it doesn’t matter from what angle, what matters is you basically give him a tight hug as it triggers a hormone in the brain that will help with calming him down. Not so tight that he may think he’s being restrained, you know what I mean. Just a side-note he may resist it at first but at some point he will relax into you. Next, if you hum or whisper softly, even sing, the vibrations against his body will help drastically with soothing. It follows onto the last thing you must do which is talk to him, talk him through it, tell him it’s ok – just don’t let it be silent in a way that he will over think and go further into the panic. Did you get that ok?”_

 

_“Yes, yes, I got that alright.”_

 

_“Ok, great. Are you with him all the time?”_

 

_“Well if I’m not then one of the boys is.”_

 

_“What about at night?”_

 

_“Occasionally.”_

 

_“Why only occasionally?”_

 

_“Because he needs space right? And I don’t want to push him or make him uncomfortable by sleeping in the same room as him.”_

 

_“Does he show obvious discomfort?”_

 

_“Well, no, he doesn’t but you know how good he is at hiding some things.”_

 

_“Hmm, yes, but I also think that he feels safer around you, he gets nightmares and you have the ability to help him calm down which reduces his distress. He’s associated you, unconsciously or not with safety and calmness, so if you’re there when he’s feeling uncomfortable, unsafe, vulnerable etc as he would after a nightmare, you being there is beneficial to him in the long term especially. It’s important to remember that, very much like today, if he’s also got a window of opportunity to self-harm he will, and in this mindset I’d be surprised if he didn’t take it.”_

 

_“Oh, ok, that makes sense.”_

 

_“It is my professional opinion that you should start sleeping in the same room from now on. Not necessarily in the same bed but definitely within close proximity. That is, as long as he is comfortable.”_

 

_“Ok, noted, I’ll do that and discuss it with him.”_

 

_“Excellent, thank you Liam.”_

 

_“No, thank you Isabelle, you’re an absolute saint.”_

 

_“I’d argue that you are, good night Liam.”_

 

_“Good night Isabelle.”_


	16. Court

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if it seems so quick but lets be real, court scenes are always drawn out and completely inaccurate in other writings and i just want to be able to provide you with material, hopefully more will be coming soon!!

~ Two weeks later ~

\--------------------------

Zayn’s throat has never felt so raw until this moment. Forget the purging, forget dehydration. It’s today that his throat is clamming up.

He sits there, Liam on his right, his hands folded in his lap in the heavily stained wooded and musky feeling courtroom. Resisting the urge to fiddle with his pristine-ironed suit leg. Liam has an arm around him, behind the small of his back, holding him close. His thumb trailing little circles and meaningless shapes into his hip but Zayns so so grateful for that.

He applauds himself a little when Nathan comes out, he’s in his faded jean, navy tee and brown jacket. Zayn feels him stare on him but he’s already looking down at his lap, controlling his breathing as best he can just like Isabelle taught him. Liam must notice something because a kiss, slow, lingering, gentle, is placed to his temple and he lets all the nervous energy dissipate a little, sag into Liam some more (because he won’t be so heavy like this as he would standing up and that's a little ok). He shifts so he can hide his face in Liam’s neck and shoulder. Liam moves his hand to pat at his head, threading his hands through his hair and just really holding his focus which Zayn really really appreciates.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, please rise.”

Court’s in session. He sits up stiff, looking ahead to the judge and sending up a silent prayer to Allah for good will and luck, because he knows if this falls through then Nathan may just kill him. His arm begins to itch and he rubs subconsciously at it but then Liam places a gentle hand over his and takes it into his own, rubbing the skin gently and rolling the knuckles.

He listens through Harriet and his lawyer giving the statement, explaining the case. Through to his lawyer defending him. He watches, listening on bated breath as the court battles over him. He feels guilty, no one should waste this much time on him and he feels bad.

He wants to throw up by the time he’s called up to the podium, his hands shaking and eyes downcast to the floor. He stands, and like in a dream he makes his way up. Forgetting how he got there when he did and taking a sip of the water that Harriet gives him. The judge turns to him and he feels his eyes bear in and he can't initially look away, so he looks between the eyes like Isabelle taught him, just at the bridge. He is asked several yes and no questions, because they know that he’s struggling with the ‘selective muteness’. However, they soon develop into more complex questions, some things he doesn't want to answer. He can feel tears brim, looking down at the desk before him and he needs to take a deep breath before nodding his head to signal, yes, yes he did that and I can confirm.

“Your honour can we please have a quick break?” He can hear a female voice echo somewhere in his mind. And another reply “Yes.”

He doesn't move though, instead his hands end up tightening over the edge of the desk and go white when he hears a cruel snigger from across the bannister. He feels short of breath and it only comes back when Harriet touches his arm, getting him to look up and coaxing him to get up from the seat at the podium and leads him to Liam. Liam whom meets him at the railing and engulfs him in a hug.

“C’mon darling, lets go take a breather.”

Liam caresses his skin so gently when he sighs in relief and they turn around to break. The boys are waiting for them outside and all go in for a group hug and Zayn wants to cry because they’re just so kind and nice and he really needed a hug but he didn't know how to say it and they’ve always been there for him. He draws his arms into his chest and lets them just surround him, protecting him from everything here.

It’s really just what he needs.

“You know Zee, we’re not supposed to talk about the case at all but I just wanted to say that we love you and we’re so proud of you for doing this, and we know it’s hard and that you’re scared and maybe don’t get it yet but that’s not your fault and - geez - just, Zayn you’re doing so well.” Louis talks in a hushed tone. He sniffs from where he is in the middle and someone - he thinks it’s Niall rubs his lower back. Harry kisses his hair. He knows because of the hair that goes in his wet eyes.

——  
——

He survived, is all he thinks when they’re in the car. He survived everything that was recounted, everything admitted during the trial and he survived when he had to look into Nathans eyes, dead ahead and confirm, yes, _that is the man who abused me._

Abuse. It seems such a strange word. Such a strange concept that he doesn't quite grasp yet. He never thought he’d be abused, ever, and he still doesn't believe that he has which scares even him.

He wishes he had he energy for other things, he wishes he had the energy to have even walked back to the car on his own, but he was close enough to collapsing as it was that by the time Isabelle had gone up, given her psychology report (he didn't want to listen to that and instead leant against Liams shoulder and drifted away for a bit) he was ready to pass out. The lump in his throat still hasn’t gone and he struggled to breathe around it throughout the entire day.

The only time when he felt ok, during this whole ordeal was when N-he, was officially sentenced to multiple life sentences for;  
\- sexual assault  
\- rape  
\- attempting to choke, strangle or suffocate, etc.  
\- Wounding or grievous bodily harm with intent to cause grievous bodily harm etc.

along with 25 additional years with surplus charges of;  
\- assault occasioning actual bodily harm  
\- indecent assault  
\- making threats to kill

It still makes him shake that that wasn't everything, there was still that last thing that happened, but he refuses to think of it. He will not go there, not now, not ever, and he will never be able to forgive himself (because it was his fault, no matter what anyone says). Regardless, it's not like N _\- he’_ s getting out of jail anytime soon.

“Babe?” Liams voice is so soft, drawing him out of his trance only to realise they’re now back home. Liam turns off the music he had playing, random ‘therapeutic' piano instrumentals downloaded from youtube and takes his hand from across the gears, using his outside hand to thumb at his cheek. Zayn stares at him, his face emotionless, because he just doesn't feel right now. The numbness is back and he can't do much about it until it goes away. Liam exhales heavily through his nose, leaning forward and kissing his forehead, when his eyes close he kisses his eyelids and thats almost enough to twitch his lips to smile.

“C’mon beautiful, lets go inside and relax.”

Zayn sighs, leaning back into the seat when Liam lets go. He’s still unbuckling his seat belt when Liam comes around and opens the door for him. Something he really doesn't have to do but does for some reason anyway.

They walk back into the house and Liam makes a point to get them out of their suits and into other clothing. Liam helps him get changed - something that has to happen now so Liam knows he’s not cutting and is gaining weight (it frustrates Zayn very much). Of course, he turns around for his decency when down to underwear, even before then and takes a quick peek just before to make sure Zayn isn't pushed in terms of feeling exposed and vulnerable.

Liam notes that he’s steadily getting to a healthier weight now, his stomach isn't as concave as it was and while you can still see his ribs they're not as prominent. His arms and legs have more flesh on them too.

Once they're both changed into sweats and loose shirts - Zayn practically swimming in his jumper they make their way downstairs where Liam puts the kettle on. Making tea for them both and cutting up an apple so they can munch on apple slices, dipping them in peanut butter (It takes a bit of coaxing for Zayn, but he complies easier today. Liam isn't sure whether it's due to exhaustion or genuine acceptance that he needs to eat, he sincerely hopes for the latter).

They go and sit on the couch, Liam put on a film they weren’t really watching, disney and dreamwork because Zayn doesn’t give much of an opinion on these things, but Liam knows how much Zayn loves disney and dreamworks and it fills the background. Neither of them sleep for a few hours, silently cuddling together after Liam finally managed to get Zayn to relax into him.

Finally, Nathan is put away for good. Zayn is officially and completely safe from him and will never have to see or bear that vile creature ever again. Liam takes satisfaction and relief in the knowledge that Zayn knows he can finally be safe and is on his way to moving on from him. But just because Zayn is exhausted and falls asleep to the sound of Aladdin in the background, doesn't mean it's peaceful.

_-_

_Today Nathan doesn’t seem in the mood for punishment, more like humiliation. Zayn knows it when he sends that smirk his way, letting him know he’s in the mood for something different._

_Not long after he acknowledges his fate; he is deprived of clothing, his hands are tied behind his back so that its right wrist to left elbow and left wrist to right elbow. He has a fabric gag tied around his mouth, a knot in the middle so he can’t move his tongue and he is just thankful it’s not the ball gag. He hates that even more than himself. He’s in the basement and the lights are dim. He’s kneeling on the floor because he’s been told to do so. The collar is on and the end locked loosely to the hook in the floor and he’s waiting for what Nathan wants to do to him._

_He stares at the cold, solid, concrete beneath him and doesn’t dare look up when he hears something blip and movement. He feels like he’s in one of those torture scene in movies, dim room, lighting on him, tied up with supposedly no escape, and then soon, he’ll burst out some superhero move and fight his way out, defeating the baddie and making and escape._

_But this isn’t a movie, this is reality and he knows he will never be able to leave._

_Nathan moves in front of him, and he feels a painful pinch when he attaches a nipple clamp. Nearly whining when the second is added. These ones are new, he can tell as he looks down at them. They’re individual and have something on them, like a solid cylindrical bit of metal. Nathan is behind him; he feels the breath on his neck and flinches. A new length of rope is wrapping around his midriff. Nathan nibbles on his ear as it circles a second time and he pulls it tight, then a third time and his captor pulls it fast enough and tight enough to cause a rope burn. He moans around the gag. But not because he enjoys this, no, it’s because he wants this to stop. He’s tired and he doesn’t want this, but he has no choice. The knot is made behind him, securing his arms even more to his body, and he knows that Nathans attaching the two rope groups together with a third, coiling it like a basket handle. Absolutely no escape._

_Nathan stands up behind him and he can hear clothing fall to the ground. He knows Nathan is now turned on, because he likes seeing Zayn like this, in pain, helpless and vulnerable. He walks off and grabs two objects, putting them down in close proximity to Zayn before walking off to a seat he has in the room._

_“Pick up the bells.” He hears Nathan commands and it takes a moment to register what he said. A moment too long,_  
_“I said,” Nathan grinds out. “Pick up the bells.”_

_Zayn shuffles on his knees to where the silver objects are, leaning down and using what he now knows are the magnetic clamps to pick them up. It’s painfully slow and hard to do, but he does it. When that happens he looks up at Nathan and sees he’s removed his jeans and is jacking himself off._

_He doesn’t get much of a break because Nathans now commanding him again. “Jingle them.”_  
_Zayn hates this. He hates it, hates it, hates it. But he hasn’t got a choice, he wriggles enough so the bells jingle and Nathan smirks again. “Good boy.” Zayn feels slightly sick. “Again.” Zayn complies._

 _“Lie down.” He does it._  
_“Roll over.” Zayn takes a breath and tears squeeze from his eyes, but he does it, his stomach now pressed to the cold floor._

 _Nathan coos. “Aww look at you.” Still rubbing himself off, he stands and walks over to where Zayn is lying down. “Up on your knees.”_  
_It takes a lot of effort that Zayn doesn’t really have to do this. It’s awkward and he doesn’t have his hands so there’s not enough momentum. It takes him too long, but Nathan doesn’t seem to care so Zayn ignores how terrified and mortified he is and sits up on his knees._  
_Nathan hums; gripping Zayn’s jaw and forcefully making him look up before ripping out the gag and forcing himself down Zayn’s throat, making him choke. He whimpers around it, but makes himself moan because he knows Nathan likes that, and maybe if he does this well he’ll be let off the hook._

_Not before long Nathan is shooting down his throat, pulsing and hot. He tastes bitter and he’s told to appreciate this ‘gift’. But he finds it hard to when it’s not wanted and happens nearly every day. Nathan pulls out of Zayn’s mouth, bits of come being coughed out and dribbling down his face. Nathan grips his chin again, “My good boy.” Before crouching again and unlocking the chain attached to his collar from the floor._

_Nathan stands and tugs on it, almost pulling Zayn off balance, “Are you going to be a good boy?” Zayn nods, because it’s only morning and if today’s going to be somewhat bearable he must go with what Nathan says and they both know it._

_-_

Zayn wakes up in the dark with a scream, unsure of where he is (he’s lying on a couch somewhere and it’s dark outside), or what's happening, in is mind he’s still trapped down in the basement and can feel that collar heavy and tight around his throat. He claws at it, desperate to get it off. He feels it chafe his skin and the panic is rising in his throat.  
To add to his horror a pair of arms wrap around him, taking hold of his hands which claw to get the collar off and hold him down. He screams again, begging incoherently for the person to _get off, please please get off!_ But it doesn't happen. No, they hold steadfast around him and Zayn feels something vibrate - almost purr behind him. It takes a moment but he feels the air enter his lungs easier, the fog that is his brain unclog and gulps in the air. He hears hushing come from behind him and turns around enough to see Liam humming against him, kissing his head and singing under his breath. Occasionally stopping to say things like. “Just breathe,” and “that’s it, there you go,” and “it’s ok beautiful, it’s ok, I’m here.”

He leans back against Liam, too exhausted to do anything else and rests his head back against his shoulder, getting his breath back. Liam keeps on hushing him and it feels so nice. He doesn't know since when he accepts these simple and unseen pleasures but he doesn’t question it right now. He wriggles around from where he is in Liams arms so he can face Liams chest and nestle under Liams chin. Liam seems to have no issue with this so Zayn reckons that it’s ok and sighs as he uses a hand to swipe away the wetness around his eyes - not tears just wetness. Liam reaches above them and bring the blanket covering the back of the sofa down over them and tucks it around his shoulders, back and upper leg area. Meanwhile, he tucks his hands under his own chin and snuggles closer when Liam squeezes him gently and moves his hands to hold him protectively - one on his lower back over the blanket and the other holding his head. “Go back to sleep love," Liam whispers, kissing his forehead, "I’ll be here to protect you.”

How Liam says what he needs to hear he doesn't know, but it’s nice to just shut his eyes. For once, nothing flashes before his eyes and without even thinking before he drops off to sleep once more.

———————

The next few days go by relatively quietly, Zayn doesn't really speak again but he seems to be doing ok at the same time. He draws a lot more and begins sleeping better. Liam's really glad he took up on what Isabelle said about sleeping with Zayn in his room because it makes him feel better that Zayn is truly ok. Whenever he wakes up at night, either because of a nightmare or he just can't sleep because the voices are screaming at him or his mind is frantic with worry and anxiety and memories he knows about it and they can work through it like Liam promised not three weeks ago.

The really amazing thing though is what happened that evening. As a celebration, the boys had been coming over every night for dinner. Or really, it was just an excuse for them to all be together.

It started when Harry and Liam walked through the front door to their place, having carpooled. The other three already there because Niall and Louis were both free and didn't want to miss seeing Zayn again. When they walk in, the first great thing from that evening is that they walk in to see Louis and Niall posing for Zayn who’s drawing. They look ridiculous, honestly, Louis with the mop in his hand like a staff with a blanket over his shoulder and one knee raised on the coffee table to make him look majestic and Niall wearing a cowboy hat (Liam has no idea where he got it from), boots and elbow length gloves. Making him look like the stereotypical cowboy, sitting by Louis foot holding his head in his hand, looking whimsical. It makes Harry and Liam crack up from the doorway. Zayn’s attention is snagged from the drawing he’s making of the scene before him and gives Liam a small shy smile. One which Liam can't help but to return, bright and happy that Zayn’s having a good day.

Both arrivals leave them to their business, first to get changed from work gear (having both covered Niall and Louis' shifts so they were both at home with him today) into much more comfortable casual clothing.

A lad-wide agreement had been put in place that they would all wear baggier and looser clothing until Zayn was more comfortable and expanding into tighter stuff himself. It was just so he wasn't alone with his current fashion and so he had no opportunity to compare himself to the other boys body types. Liam then comes downstairs because they'll all be damned if they cook again tonight and instead Liam orders takeaway for the boys while he starts on a simple supper for himself and Zayn.

When he is finished and all that's left is for the Chinese take-out to arrive he returns to the living room, delighted to see that Harry has now joined the scene, laying down on his side with his leg propped up at a 90º angle and corresponding arm behind his head. He laughs when he sees it and pulls out his phone to photograph this moment from all angles, from where he stands with the boys backs towards him and facing Zayn to just the boys on a 45º angle (so as not to get in Zayns way), photos of Zayn behind the easel and canvas with the paint palette in one hand and brush in the other, a pencil tucked behind his ear.

This all pales in comparison when he notices one particular detail he hadn't from before. It makes his heart race and chest swell in a way that makes him think he should be scared but isn't because he's so ecstatic about what he's seeing, so unbelievably happy he can't stop his happiness for the world, taking more photos of Zayn and then behind him in the middle of his work, concentrating hard and really, that in itself makes Liam want to jump for joy, that Zayn is focused on something positive and appears so calm.

For the first time, Zayn was painting with colour. 

\----------

_Ring Ring, Ring Ring._

_"Hello Tricia!"_

_"Hi Liam, how are you doing?"_

_"I'm doing great thank you how about you?"_

_"Yes we're fine, how's Zayn?"_

_"You won't believe how amazing he's done in the past few days, i'm sorry i didn't update you, it completely slipped my mind,"_  
  
_"No worries Liam, go on tell me about him."_  
  
_"Well touchwood he's sleeping better and he's clean now for over two weeks which is the best so far and he's really getting back into his art at the moment, i mean this evening he was painting the other boys and get this, he added colour, first time Tricia! He's only done black and greys so far! and the best thing is i don't think he noticed it!"_  
  
_"Oh my goodness I'm so glad! Thank you for telling me Liam that really makes me so happy."_

_"Oh I'm ecstatic as well."_

_"So, Yaser and I were wondering when you guys were free so we can see Zayn again, I really miss my baby and I want to see him again,"_

_"Well, we're not busy truth be told so anytime within the next few weeks, but Tricia, just before I think it's best to run it by him, I know you're his parents and all and he's done so great this week but he's still quite fragile emotionally."_

_"No no of course, I wouldn't have it any other way, I wanted to ask him myself if he would be ok, but point is, I was calling to ask how you were all doing and inform you that Yaser and I were planning on coming down - either for a day or if you have space then for a few nights also, you've done so much Liam and I do appreciate it so much, we really do."_

_"It's a pleasure Tricia, I wouldn't have it any other way."_  


_"Well, it's lovely to talk to you and I know it's short but I have to take Safaa off for dance now, so let me know if he's ok with it and hopefully we'll see you soon!"_

_"You too Tricia, make sure to send us photos because I know Zayn loves that and I will do, speak to you soon."_

_"Bye Liam."_

_"Bye Tricia."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's past midnight ahahahahahaha, hope you liked! Didn't want to leave you on an angsty note so I do hope it was cuddly and warm :)
> 
> Kudos and Comments very much appreciated. Have a great day!


	17. Let In The Sun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG I REALLY AM AND I'M SORRY THE FIRST BIT'S REALLY SHIT BUT PLEASE COMMENT BELOW WHAT YOU LIKED AND DIDN'T AND REMIND ME TO UPDATE BC I'M SHIT I KNOW I'M SO SORRY.
> 
> VERY VERY IMPORTANT READ: VERY VERY IMPORTANT READ: VERY VERY IMPORTANT READ: VERY VERY IMPORTANT READ: VERY VERY IMPORTANT READ: VERY VERY IMPORTANT READ: VERY VERY IMPORTANT READ: VERY VERY IMPORTANT READ: VERY VERY IMPORTANT READ: VERY VERY IMPORTANT READ: VERY VERY IMPORTANT READ: VERY VERY IMPORTANT READ: VERY VERY IMPORTANT READ: VERY VERY IMPORTANT READ: VERY VERY IMPORTANT READ: VERY VERY IMPORTANT READ: VERY VERY IMPORTANT READ: VERY VERY IMPORTANT READ: VERY VERY IMPORTANT READ:
> 
> ALSO I'M AN IDIOT I FORGOT TO PUT SOMETHING IN THE LAST FEW CHAPTERS AND ITS REALLY REALLY IMPORTANT BUT U DONT NEED TO GO BACK, BASICALLY  
> WHEN LIAM WASNT IN HIS ROOM AT NIGHT ZAYN WOULD DO CRUNCHES AND PUSH UPS AND STUFF OK? I FORGOT TO ADD IT BUT I'LL DO IT SOON.
> 
> ALSO THERE'S a song at the end of the pic, I added in a hyperlink in the form of 'x' just before it starts and when you should start playing it if you want to play and listen. I'm a quick reader so if it goes too quick i'm sorry, i tried to shorten it so the emotional impact was greater but if i didn't work then i apologise. Anyway please enjoy :)

**Z A Y N**

Zayn takes in a deep breath, allowing the crisp cool air fill his lungs. He closes his eyes, enjoying the peace he’s feeling right now, not letting himself worry about the current issues surrounding him. He lets himself have this moment, especially given he's felt nothing less than shit for the last few days after the court case, and it's great.

It’s over, he thinks, maybe Isabelle’s right, maybe it’s time to just move on. His thoughts sound foreign and weird. Like it's not his own voice.

"You know, your mother called recently." Liam says conversationally. He doesnt look up from his feet, his silence an answer in itself. "She wants to come down sometime, if you're ok with it. She misses you."

They keep walking and Zayn thinks about it,  _Is he ready to see his mum? his dad? His sisters? Is he ready to be fucked up in front of them and struggle in their presence?_  

"Just your mum and dad-" Liam clears his throat. "-but like I said, only when or rather only  _if_ you're ready. They're happy to wait as long as you need."

Zayn nods as his answer. He's not sure, but he'll consider it. He misses them a lot, so while he wants it he's not sure they quite know that they do. He'll think about it. 

“Hey look! It’s Isabelle!” Liam points out to him, raising his gaze from the ground and down his outstretched arm. He sees her crouched with a man standing beside her and two children running around. It’s a beautiful sight to behold.

He only smiles while Isabelle introduces the man next to her, her husband Mark and the two children around her legs, her sons Jack and David.  
“Say hi Jack!” The boy in question chews on his fist and gives him a small wave from behind Isabelle's leg, meanwhile the younger of the two, David, stares up at him with these wide eyes.

It's to his great surprise that David comes up and hugs both his and Liams leg. His heart skips a beat at the innocence before him and his face warms up, the little boy looks up at him imploringly, dummy in his mouth almost as a silent ask to be lifted. Liam bends down and picks up the boy, placing him on the hip closest to Zayn.

"Aww, Davids always been a sucker for cuddles." Zayn hears behind him, turning, he sees the man from before. "M'names Mark, and you are?"

Liam responds for them, "Hi Mark I'm Liam and this here is Zayn, we're... acquaintances of Isabelle's." He turns to Zayn when he paused, hesitating in how to explain their relationship with his wife. Isabelle smiles from next to Mark, having picked up Jack too.

They discuss the weather and the park and how lovely it is, a conversation Zayn doesn't take part in, ( _"So Mark, what do you do?" "Oh im an emergency surgeon, I work at the local hospital." "wow that awesome! Good thing your around for the boys aha little rascals." "yeah, when we have a boo boo it's ok because daddy the doctor is there."_ ). He's currently enamoured with the boy on Liams hip. He feels a few tears bought to his eyes when he has a thought, but he brushes it off quickly, not ready to have a breakdown in the middle of a park and two children. He coos as best he can at the child and holds his hand. Said child begins to reach out for him and he has to take a deep breath as it transitions from Liams arms to his. He's a lot heavier than he looks and theres a moment of panic that grapples him when he thinks he nearly drops him.

"Careful Zayn, don't want to hurt yourself." Liam says, removed from the prior conversation as all eyes land on him struggling to hold the year old. Liam wraps his arms around them and helps him hold David. Zayn can feel his face flush with embarrassment, children aren't that heavy, are they?

A stray thought pops into his mind, about how he's probably just too weak, incapable of holding a child and that worries him... how did he get so weak that he can't hold a year old child? The revelation scares him and he lets Liam take him as he worries his lip between his teeth, zoning out of the conversation the others have around him.

It stays with him the rest of the time they're there, he politely refuses to hold Jack, fearing he'll drop the child like he nearly did before, but Liam reassures him it's all ok and so Zayn does in fact, with the assistance of Liam hold the baby. His heart beats fiercely, pounding in his chest as he gets lost in his thought of the past and what could've been -  _no -_ he cuts off his thought train, no, he wilt do that to himself, he is not a masochist, he can do this. So he takes a deep breath, pushes it all to the side and enjoys this moment. When the child is put down they all end up playing with the children, he has fun with David, chasing him around for a little like he used to with his younger sisters. In hindsight he thinks thats the moment he knows his answer to what Liam said earlier with his family wanting to come down, he hasn't seen them in so long, he feels like such a shit brother.

 _"Rawr."_ David squeals as Liam goes to tickle him and Zayn chuckles under his breath, again, brushing the bad thoughts aside and exaggerating his stride after the 2 year old. 

"Rawr." Liam growls back, failing miserably and he chuckles again under his breath. Genuinely enjoying the day unlike the dark feeling from earlier. 

Today could be really good.

 

\------

 

**L I A M**

That night over supper goes much better. Zayn's in good spirits and it rolls off onto waves for the boys, sure, he's not  _ecstatic,_ but he looks like he's ok with what's going on, bar the food of course, but he does a good job of ignoring it and just getting on with it, listening into conversation for once.

Louis speaks up, as he often does. "Hey, hey Niall, why did the mushroom go to the party?" He waggles his eyebrows mischievously, a shit eating grin on his face as he forks the mouthful of pasta to his mouth. 

"I dunno Lou," He says with a knowing sigh, "why did the mushroom go to the Party?"

He giggles as he tells the joke "Because he was a fun-guy." 

Harry, as with all terrible jokes laughs outright and there's a groan from himself and Niall because  _we've heard it so many times now Louis will you please move on?_

What's different about this joke however, is the new sound of happiness that he is shocked to find sitting next to him.

Zayn laughs.  

It takes all of them by surprise and they all have to do a double take to check that what they're experiencing is reality. 

He's the last to break out of the trance, the rest laughing along with him, making no comments about it and just letting the joy on laughter on Zayns face happen. It's short lived unfortunately, and while Harry tries it again with a knock knock joke he's exceptionally terrible and Zayn laughs for a little.

It's only small, but Liam really feels like things are looking up. 

 

\------

 

**Z A Y N**

"Hey Zayn!"

He whips around after dinner is finished and he and Louis are in the living room while the others clean up.

Harry approaches him with something behind his back and he begins to feel nervous, _what is he hiding?_

"So... like," He fake coughs into his hand, "I noticed that, and, well, Liam also said that music is something that can really help, so like," He presents what he was hiding behind his back, a clear CD case with said CD inside. "So like, I made you a mix tape, and its not my music or anything its other stuff i think you'll like and maybe you'll find helpful." 

For the first time they make eye contact and Zayn can't help the small smile that appears out of nowhere, and he welcomes it with open arms and even goes as far as to hug Harry, just for a second. Harry looks shocked as Liam appears behind him and he holds up the CD case.

"Oh so this i what you were going on about Haz, neat!" Liam says.

"You wanna play it?" He asks him, and he nods,  _yes please._

Liam scrambles off and goes about setting up the stereo and the CD.

 

_[x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IhG6pZIlhZQ) _

 

With the opening music flowing out the speakers Liams face lights up. “Yes Haz, I love this song!”

 

He must’ve looked confused, because Liam pulled them together, meeting halfway and singing softly along to the music in his ear. 

The first few lyrics are sung and nope. He hasn't ever heard this song before. He sways with Liam, going with the flow.

 

_In the darkness you must enter the code_

_And crack the combination all on your own._

 

A steady thump of drums began in the background. He could hear the backing vocals to the song. The beat thumping through his bones as Louis turns up the music.

 

Liam smiles brightly as he sings to him;  _Pick yourself up and search for the light_

Liam pulled away from singing into his ear,  _Hungry for a new start._

 

He grinned when Liam did, his happiness infectious.

 

_It's your chance now to stand up and fight_

_Take the next step now a day at a time_

 

Next Liam stood back, letting go of his hands and thrusting his arms out as far as they could.

 

_Open up, open up_

_Everybody's waiting_

 

He pointed up at the ceiling, spinning with a smile.

 

_From high above_

_Feel the love_

_Open up your windows_

 

Liam took his hands back and still smiling, sang;

 

_Let in the sun_

_Let in the sun_

 

Liam bobbed their hands up and down, Zayn could feel his cheeks start to hurt, he hadn’t smiled like this in years.

 

_Let in the sun_

_Just let in the sun_

 

He could hear the other boys signing softly in the background, all off in their own group dancing. 

 

_Good to see you with your feet on the track_

_Waiting for a restart_

 

Zayn couldn't help but swoon at Liams voice, holding just as good, if not better than the main singer in this song. He couldn’t quite breathe right, it’s like a vice was around his heart and this time it was the best feeling in the world.

 

_Leaving all that once what was holding you back_

_Want you to see the sun rise as fast as you can_

 

Liam leant in again, slinging a hand around his back which in turn made Zayn slid his left hand to grip at Liams shoulder, Liam outstretched their right and Zayn realised now they were properly dancing. 

 

_Pick it up, turn it round._

 

Niall, Harry and Louis were still backing behind them, clapping and stamping to the beat, Louis turned it up just a bit more.

 

_Want you to see the sun rise as fast as you can._

 

Liam smiled even wider, laughing as he sang and his face _burned_ under it. His eyes were wide and his smile wider.

 

_Open up, open up_

_Everybody's waiting._

 

Claps sounded louder in the background. 

 

_From high above_

_Feel the love_

_Open up your windows_

 

_Let in the sun_

 

Now he was getting the chorus, he was getting the words, fully reciting what was being said. 

 

_Let in the sun_

_Just let in the sun_

 

Liam surprised him by dropping his right hand and instead using it to cup the side of his face, he nuzzled into the touch.

 

_Feel the air and breathe it in_

_Feel the warmth upon your skin_

_Looking out and looking in_

 

They slowly swayed, his heart was beating fast _so fast_. 

 

_Oooh_

 

Liams expression had changed from a smile to one of amazement and Zayn dropped the idea that it could be because of him, he refused for bad thoughts to ruin this moment and thought of nothing but the intenseness, the warmth of Liam eyes in that very second.

 

_Every colour in your eyes_

_In reflection of the light_

_Every minute, every night_

 

In this moment time had stopped, he had tunnel vision with lam and Liam only in his focus.

 

_Open up, open up_

_Everybody's waiting_

 

Zayn felt himself mouthing to the words. He wasn't singing - no, no sound left his mouth, but his lips moved regardless.

 

_From high above_

_Feel the love_

 

He didn't even realise it, not until Liam himself had stopped and was gaping at him.

 

_Open up your windows_

_Let in the sun_

_Let in the sun_

 

He noticed he was singing too. Not loud, only a whisper steadily growing louder and louder until…

 

_Let in the sun_

 

In his shock he nearly stopped himself, but he ploughed through it, not letting himself stop this for one second, he was finally talking - ok, maybe singing, but he didn't care. He, Zayn Malik was creating a noise other than a whimper or a scream.

 

_Let in the sun_

 

For the next line he raised the pitch in his voice, it’s like on instinct he knew it was supposed to happen. 

 

Then he laughed, laughed as he sang because he was floating, he was fucking flying and nothing could stop him now. He was unstoppable, powerful, incredible in this moment.

 

_Just let in the sun_

_Oh let in the sun, let in the sun_

 

_Let in the sun._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ZAYN SINGS CAN YOU GUYS BELIEVE IT!?!?!


	18. New Leaf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, this is unedited so i'll go through tomorrow and edit it up a bit. See end comments about why.
> 
> Dedicated to the lovely Sommerfuglvinge because she made me happy and i taught her something and i really hope you have a lovely day gorgeous :)
> 
> Also Karma_Horan bc i just got two emails three seconds before i posted this with her comments and they made me happy, again, hope you have a wonderful day lovely and i hope you enjoy this chapter :)
> 
> Im going to start adding pictures to chapters - does anybody know how to do that thing where they come at the top of the page before the writing? 
> 
> Anyway, please comment - it means so much to m, it really really does

**** **  
**

**N I** A **L L**

Over the next three days it’s clear to all of them how hard it is for Zayn to even get out of bed. It’s not hard to see the slumped shoulders and bags under his eyes even though Liam has been in the same room as him sleep continues to be evasive at the best of times. He takes it upon himself to constantly check up on him via text and every night when they go over (it’s a rarity for them to not be there now, with them all so close its not hard to meet up). Tonight though they’ve mixed it up and have a go at eating over at his, just for a change of scenery.

Zayns hands shake with every bite, and he has to make a special effort to not stare too much – just to make sure Zayn is actually eating

It’s a terrible thought but he’s almost happy Zayn just submits to them because it means he doesn’t argue when it comes to eating – and what a horrible thing to think, he knows, if he could reinstall Zayns confidence right there and then he would but for now his lack of confidence at speaking up is what keeps him eating and he can't stand the thought of Zayn starving any longer.

It’s a confusing justification, not one he’ll ever voice but it's what he thinks is best.

 

\------

 

**Z A Y N**

He's laying on the couch, reclined, eyes closed and his leg propped up as Isabelle talks to him, voice smooth, slow, peaceful. She said it was a form of hypnosis she thought he could benefit from and called it 'guided meditation' before they started. He agrees with her on this decision, he's never felt so relaxed as he is right now.

 _"And, slowly, through your nose you will take in a deep breath, feel it in your lungs and then your stomach. Hold it, for three, two, one and, slowly, out through your mouth for five seconds, feel it through your stomach and lungs as you exhale_."

He does as he's told and feels himself sink through the couch cushions, engulfed in clarity as Isabelle guides him though his thoughts in a way he'd never experienced. It's similar to the type of meditation used in PE lessons from high school when the teacher was too lazy or unorganised. However he has found, in the 40 minute session they do, a newfound appreciation for this.

"And, when your ready, we will finish this guided mediation, take your time to come back and open your eyes when you feel comfortable." Isabelle tells him, switching off the background sounds of waves.

He gives it a minute, really letting himself embrace how relaxed he feels compared to the last 4 days, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth as the remaining or rather, non-existent tension seeps from his bones before he opens his eyes, slowly. Isabelle is crouched down beside the sofa with a glass of water and after she helps him sit up coaxes him into sipping it.

"Excellent Zayn, excellent, take your time." She rubs at the small of his back through his shirt. "How do you feel?" She asks when she stands, heading back to her seat and writing down a few notes in her book.

He closes his eyes, because they have long since established it is easier for him to talk, even if its just to Isabelle or even Liam when he has his eyes closed. "Relaxed." He answers, voice quiet. 

"Yeah? That's excellent, did you enjoy it?" He doesn't know about how one enjoys it but feels himself nodding as an answer. He can disagree with the question anyway.

"What else do you feel?" She writes down the next few words he uses to describe it.  _Relaxed, clear, sleepy, clean, not tense, good, okay._

She hums in approval, "well, Zayn this seems to have really benefited you, do you agree?" He nods in response and she shuffles her sheets of paper to start a new one.

"I really recommend you take this up at least once a week outside of our sessions, it looks like it's very effective in helping your clear your mind. Yoga is a good possibility too and I believe you'd really enjoy it with time."

His brow furrows,  _it wouldn't be with her?_

She leans forward, her elbow on her knees with her notepad beside her, "Zayn?"

"N-not w-with you?" He asks quietly, he doesn't know about other people, he's only truly becoming comfortable with her, other people daunt him and he doesn't want other people. They make him anxious.

"I'm not a trained instructor in this and it'd be good for you to do this, get out the house at least once a week. I know you do when you go out on walks or other activities with Liam and the boys, but this would be something you can do on your own, something fun that's scheduled every week away from home If I'm not mistaken the gym Liam used to attend has a number of yoga and other classes, some of the instructors which i would recommend, they're very amicable and excellent at what they do."

He's still unsure, firstly because he's unsure of how to do things by himself anymore. He's so used to being told to do things that he can't help but get anxious about doing things on his own. It's much easier and safer to do as other instruct him and then he fill it to the best of his ability. While he doesnt want to be so dependent, especially on Liam he can't help it, he doesnt feel like he can do anything without Liam now, not while he's his rock, the conceit of his existence right now. Secondly, 'home', up until now he's thought of Liams place as accommodation. He sleeps in the guest room and this is the first time someone other than Liam has referred to where he stays as 'home'. It's a foreign, strange hope that he can't quite stomach.

"You don't have to do anything you're uncomfortable with Zayn, you don't have to act on it now and if you're still uncomfortable I can link to to guided meditations you can do at home. But let's put it to one side for the moment shall we?"

He nods, following through with her suggestion, not allowing any negative thoughts filter through his peace.

"Actually there was another suggestion I had for you... in our first session you said you used to play piano... why not get back into that?"

He ponders it for a moment, she has a point and Liam does have a piano but he's not very good and it's just like singing - why would he want anyone to suffer while he played out of tune and misplaced notes?

"I believe it would be a beneficial and productive thing to do with your time, i assume Liam has told you about alternatives?"

He furrows his eyebrows, "n-n-no?" He stutters.

"Oh well, it's not serious, I did say not to mention it to you at the time and while i dont believe he's forgotten he may just be waiting for a good moment to ask you, he only wants to do things at your pace remember? Too much will overwhelm you and it's not good for you."

Zayn nods his understanding, at that moment he feels all over the place - like he keeps on telling himself he doesn't deserve anything but at the same time he wants to forget and turn over a new leaf. Try starting fresh. There's a part of him that tells him to embrace this, that he has potential and the other half wants to hit him and tells him to hurt himself. That he is worthless and good for nothing. He surpasses that minimal urge and it comes to his attention that he hasn't hurt himself for three weeks now, not since the day he agreed to charge N-him.

"I'm three weeks clean." He says to himself, he has to say it aloud so he knows it's a reality, three weeks since he hurt himself and he's unsure of how to feel. He thinks he's... proud? But why would he be proud?

"Zayn, what did you say?" Isabelle leans even more forward, meeting his gaze on hi level.

"I-I," He clears his throat. "'m th-three weeks." He says, not much louder than before, in shock at the out-of-the-blue realisation.

"Since you last self-harmed?" Isabelle clarifies and he nods.

"That's brilliant Zayn! Congratulations, you should be so proud of yourself."

He furrows his brows again, is he proud of himself? Is he allowed to be proud of himself?

"Zayn, do you feel proud?" Isabelle asks. He shrugs running his fingers through his hair.

"Is it that feeling when you think you feel proud of yourself, and relieved but your not sure wether your allowed too." He nods, so glad Isabelle is always able to put a name to his emotion.

"Thats perfectly normal, it takes time." She rites something down on her pad. "In this context I assure you that pride and relief are perfectly acceptable emotions, when you suffer and self-harm its not easy to fight it. So what we do from now is keep working on it, and if you relapse the thats ok, we work on it over and over and over until you believe in yourself, until youre no longer hurting and until the day, that promised one day where we dont need to work for it anymore because you've got it and you're confident in yourself and everything is ok."

He begins to think that this three-week milestone is a sign, that he should turn over a new leaf and let himself forget the past. That maybe it's time to move on, he still feels heavy and he still hurts but now it feels like he can push up this mountain and get to the top, if he starts accepting himself things will turn out ok. A part of him tells him to go for it, and the other continues to stamp down on him and call him all sorts of names. But maybe, just maybe he has potential. 

He walks out of their session that say with an almost smile on his face and a pep in his step.

 ------

L **I A M**

Liams been keeping track and today marks three weeks of being clean for Zayn.

Earlier, when Zayn walked out of Isabelle's office he was almost smiling and he really really begins to believe that Zayn is going to get better, that things are going to get ok. Yes, Zayn still has a long way to go on this road to recovery, but it looks like he's really accepting the help he's getting and that it's going to be ok in the end.

He cannot contain his pride when Zayn tells the boys later on. Liam's not sure how much Zayn thinks the boys know, even though it's obvious it's never been explicitly admitted out loud to the boys that he self-harms. But no, Zayn is there taking a shot at this, he stands in the living room before them, wringing out and fiddling with the hem on the scoop-necked red sweater on his  _own_  how he's three weeks clean. Those four little words that mean to world to each and every single one of them. They all immediately gush out their congratulations and pride and remind him how much they love him, they go on to tell him how brave he is and how he's doing so well but soon end up stopping when Zayn curls into himself, hiding behind his hands as if he doesn't believe them (which Liam knows he doesn't). Nonetheless they remind him over and over throughout the night how much they love him and how proud they are again and again and finish with a kiss on the forehead each and Liam sneaks in his own special one on his cheek.

The celebrate by dancing to another track off Harry's CD. It's beginning to be one of Liams favourites and he's sure Zayn feels the same as they dance in funny circles and he sings lyrics into Zayns ear. He means every word, and is almost scared how someone knew exactly what words to combine to create the loyalty he has for Zayn. They also celebrate with Zayns old favourite for dinner, Teriyaki chicken and the conversation flows smoothly. When they dance, they twirl and he sings lyrics into Zayns ear over and over and he means every single one.

 

He starts them off, holding Zayn close by intertwining their hands and placing his free one on the small of Zayns back, thumbing little circles through the material of the sweater, holding him flush against his body (he made sure it was ok to do so). He sings when the song starts the first time.

 

[ _x_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x-2YqgIxoF8)

 

_The hurt in your eyes will never disguise_

_The spark that lived there before_

 

He thumbs Zayns knuckle.

 

_And I know that you're so much more_

_Than you're showin'_

 

He lets go of Zayns hand and runs it though his hair

 

_The clouds in your hair will bring you to tears_

 

And thumbs under Zayns eyes

 

_But I will catch every drop_

_Even if it don't ever stop_

_'Cause you're worth it, you're worth it_

 

Zayn looks up from where he was looking at their feet, meeting his gaze and Liam couldn't bear to look away from those hazel orbs.

 

_When you fight for every breath_

_And the waves are overhead_

 

He runs his hand through Zayns hair again.

 

_Let me lay your mind to rest_

_I will stand by you_

 

They continue dance in little circles, he spins Zayn around on occasion, letting their body respond to the song. 

 

_If black is your brightest colour_

_If hurt is your only lover_

_When you fight, we fight together_

_I'll stand by, I will stand by you_

 

Zayn begins to sway his hips to the music, a small smile playing on his lips as he noses at Liams birthmark. Nuzzling into his neck when Liam continues to sing to him and sway them.

 

_I will stand by you  
_

 

_The war in your head will shoot you down dead_

_So don't even try to win_

_Is it worth it all in the end?_

_I don't think so_

 

Liam makes sure to keep Zayn listening, understanding that Liams not leaving, that he's here to stay and Zayn has nothing to worry about now. Ever.

 

_Try to embrace the lines on your face_

_The story of who you are_

_'Cause I love what I've read so far_

_I mean it, I mean it_

 

The chorus begins again and Liam pulls Zayn from his hiding place, smiling down as he soaks up the gorgeous sight in front of him. Zayn doesnt laugh or smile more than the little smirk he's wearing but Liam can see something dancing in Zayns eyes. Not quite there yet, but it's emerging, slowly, steadily.

And so they dance, just the two of them, the other boys managing dinner tonight, absorbing each other company. one with reverence and admiration the other with gratitude and doubt.

Still, Liam hopes his words carry through, that Zayn hears it as more than a song and instead as Liams eternal promise. A vow.

 

_I will stand by you.  
_

  

 ------

 

After dinner Harry asks Zayn to draw him something, and the Pakistani boy doesnt deny him that. Liam notes that Zayns back to painting and drawing in black but as long as he isn't thinking about things that hurt his and is getting any unwanted emotion out then thats all that he could as for. He turns on calm music in the background because in a phone call not long ago Isabelle mentioned about the effect music can have on people who suffer mental illnesses, how music can be a source of happiness and a way to drain negative emotion, which is why he plays it all the time and makes a point of singing when he can. Not to mention, Zayn sang not long ago, bordering a near miracle and he was so happy who would dare deny Zayn that?

It's not like Zayn will sing along to piano and guitar instrumentals, but its a start.

 

\------

 

 **Z A Y N**  

It goes a little something like this; the boys bid their goodbyes that evening and while Liam cleans up dinner that had been forgotten amongst other activities Zayn discovers the piano, hiding under a broad white cloth with tid-bids and photos perched over the dusty throw. 

He pushes up the cover, breathing deeply as his fingers run over the porcelain keys.

It goes a little something like this; Zayn begins to play the piano. It's nothing like Beethoven or Mozart, intact its a little piece he did in third grade called 'the railway' and his fingers at first go slow, and progressively, they fly. Liam stumbles out from the kitchen, nearly tripping in Zayns peripheral vision and if he hadn't been so thrilled with the instrument under his fingertips he would've laughed.

It goes a little something like this; Zayn smiles.

 

\------ 

**L I A M**

 

Everything is going well the next day right up until Zayn mentions he’s going to get a jumper, and Liam notices he doesn't come back for a while. Immediately his first thought after a few minutes have passed is that something’s triggered him (maybe his thoughts are all about the nightmare form last night) and really, that is not desired under any circumstance, especially not with the celebration they had the night before. Liam puts down the book he’s reading and makes his way to Zayns room.

He doesn’t see him at first, in fact everything in its place and nothing is unusual. That is, until a small sniff comes from around the corner and immediately Liams heart drops. He goes around and sees Zayn, shirtless and with his jeans down at his ankles, he's finally starting to fit the boxers he wears and they don't look to be hanging precariously by faith alone at all now. Zayns back is to him but it's at an angle where Liam wouldn't be visible in the mirror to Zayn. However, Liam can see perfectly well how Zayn clutches at the skin of his stomach, pulling and pushing it around before one dances down to where his thighs are, scratching between the scarring cuts; his facial expression giving away how desperate he looks, how much he wants to pick and rub. His nails claw up against the scars to his stomach again where he looks down on himself instead of through the mirror, palms pressed flat to his stomach; one rubbing the area while the other stays still over his groin. A shuddery breath later he outstretches his hands from his stomach and Liam knows he's staring at the scars on his arms now too. 

Liam approaches not too quietly but not thumping against the floor either, an “Oh Zayn,” falling from his lips. Zayn’s head whips up so fast his neck cracks and his hands fly up to wrap around him protectively. Liam heart breaks as he notices the redness of his eyes and the obvious distress. He wraps him up where he stands, threading his fingers with Zayns to cease the relentless grip he now has on his barely there stomach. He ghosts his hands over the reddened, tortured areas and Zayn whimpers out a small “Please.”

“Please what darling?” Not stopping the gentle touches and massaging his damaged skin.

Zayn chokes up. “I’m so disgusting.” Gagging on his tears. “Please don't look at me.” His legs give out slightly but Liam spins him around in time so that he falls against his chest instead. 

“Oh no, no baby.” He protests, running his hand through Zayns hair and wrapping him up protectively, Zayns face in his neck, barely keeping his breathing under control.

Zayn nods against his skin, Liam can feel the shudders that run through his body with the effort of staying as calm as possible. “I am, I hate myself.”

Liam almost whimpers himself. “Zayn, oh, oh Zayn baby, please don't say that again, you’re not. You aren’t honey.”

Zayn sniffs, burying himself into Liam even more - Liam wasn't sure it was humanly possible - no matter how many times he’s wished he could open up his own ribcage, tuck Zayn inside and keep him safe. “I am, Liam, I can't stand it, please, please don't look at me.”

Liam exhales loudly to calm himself down, try to stop his own tears. “You’re not, babe, I promise you’re not, you’ll see one day, you’ll see.”

Zayn just shakes his head again, huffing against his skin. 

“Zayn, Zayn beautiful please look at me?” He leans back a bit and used his right hand to cup Zayns cheek, thumbing away the tears when Zayn finally makes eye contact. “You are the most exquisite creature I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.”

Zayn shakes his head and head buts Liam’s chest when he breaks out into sobs again, but in all honesty Liam knew it was going to happen. It doesn't do much to stop each stab to his heart with every whisper and sob that Zayn couldn't possibly hope to hold back. His shoulders shake and he begins mumbling incoherent words that sound so detrimental. Liam begins rocking them side to side where they stand and hushing him quietly, softly running his hands along his back and through his hair. Kissing his hair and head at every opportunity while Zayn purges his sadness via his tear ducts and vocal chords. 

 

\------

 

_"Are you fucking planning on leaving me?" Nathan screams as he storms out the bathroom, the flier Zayn had picked up the other day in his hand. "What the fuck is this, 'You always have a choice, assistance on leaving relationships'"_

_"I-I can explain, please Nathan please."_

_"No you whore you can't leave me after everything i've done for you, I love you and this is how you treat me?"_

_"No! No! Nathan I promise it's not what it looks like!"_

_"Not what it looks like?' Well, Zayn, I would really appreciate knowing why you have a flier about leaving relationships when the last time I checked we were in a relationship and happy in it."_

_"We-We are Nathan I promise I-"_

_"Then who else are you seeing you slut?" Nathan throws the flier down at their feet._

_"No-one!" Zayn all but screams._

_"Don't you dare raise your voice at me you piece of shit, tell me, why do you have this?" He crosses his arms, and Zayn has never seen him so pissed._

_"I-I," He fumbles for words and when he cannot produce them Nathan growls._

_"Fucking bitch, I'll teach you a lesson." Nathan lunges forward and grabs Zayn by the hair, throwing him to the floor at the base their box next to a box where Nathan has been collecting serious items that Zayn doesn't like but Nathan promises to not use them unless he's been naughty. First Nathan grabs the collar and buckles it around his throat. Zayn immediately goes to pull off, crying out for Nathan to stop please stop! I'm begging you Nathan PLEASE! But he doesn't and Zayn hears a click. It sinks in that this is the collar that you can padlock and before he knows it there's a chain attached from the collar to the bed post and he can't get away, he whimpers, keening high in the back of his throat as he panics and terror seizes every fibre of his being. Next Nathan grabs the ball gag, aiming to put it in but he refuses, claiming his mouth shut and biting down on his lips so Nathan can't put it on. He looks so mad and slaps Zayn, he refuses to open his mouth though even when he recoils, slap after slap after slap. Nathan growls, "stubborn bitch you just learnt yourself a longer time out."_

_He whimpers but continues to refuse to open his mouth._

_Nathan drops the ball gag for the time being and rips Zayn jacket off his shoulders. He struggles, resisting what he's doing and that earns him a punch in the eye._

_"N-nathan p-please stop!" He all but screams. Nathan doesnt answer. "P-please, babe, please." Tears roll down his cheeks freely as Nathan unbuckles his belt. He folds it in half and hits Zayn with it in no particular place, just wherever is accessible and Zayn shields himself. He cries out in pain as the crack of the belt opens his flesh of his arm - exposed now he only wears a t-shirt. He's so preoccupied with the pain that when Nathan stops he doesn't notice immediately, and takes to opportunity to force the gag on him. It's too late to stop him and next thing Zayn knows his jaw is aching and he's beginning to drool around the ball gag._

_Nathan takes his chin and slaps him again. This time when Nathan picks up the belt he whimpers, cowering away from the hit but instead Nathan uses it to fasten his arms to his sides. Zayn struggles against the leather, wriggling around but Nathan retrieves a roll of duct tape from the box and now that he is partly immobilised he wraps it around his upper arms all the way down to his elbows, fastening it by slapping it down over the layer of duct tape on his chest._

_Nathan, repeating the process from before binds Zayns lower arms, elbows to his wrist, pinning them by his side and removing the belt in the process. Once finished Nathan moves on by removing Zayns jeans. He kicks and screams around the gag, refusing to give up on this - why is Nathan doing this? Usually Nathan would just hit him and bruise him up good but no, this is taking it to a level never seen before and Zayn has never been more scared in his life. He chokes as he screams and cries around the gag even more. But Nathan is stronger than him and uses the rest of the roll to tie his knees together and then his ankles. All he can hope to do is wriggle in this combination of duct tape, t-shirt and boxers. Nathan unlocks the collar and takes it off, chucking it in the box and leaving him alone as he returns to the bathroom._

_He knows it's futile but he tries to wriggle himself to some form of freedom, try escape this situation somehow and run. But Nathan comes back before any real start is made and uses his hair to drag him into the bathroom before throwing him over his shoulder and then into the bath tub. His heart races, what the actual fuck is Nathan doing?! Stop! please stop! he tries to scream but it's no use. Nathan turns on the hot water tap and leaves him there, the water turning from cool to mild warm to scorching hot. It burns at his ankles and he can do much to move. He tries to sit up but the second he does Nathan is back in. He smacks a strip of tape over his mouth and subsequently the ball gag. And then, using the sides of the tub he tapes over the top in almost equal lengths, effectively cocooning him in, caging him. He cries out best he can, sobbing. Please, please stop Nathan stop I'm sorry!_

_The water burns him and it begins to fill up, he can't move, he can't get out and the water keeps on filling up higher and higher. Nathan leaves him and he screams and cries so much he goes horse in a matter of minutes. Nathan comes back just when he cannot push away from the water anymore, he has to outstretch his legs and strain his neck in the boiling water to keep himself above the water level._

_Nathan switches it off but makes no move to get him out, in fact he just leaves him there. He doesn't know how long for but he knows it's hours and hours because the water goes from boiling to freezing and the sky gets dark though the windows. Nathan comes in once more with some length of tube in his hand and a pair of scissors. Immediately Zayn's on alert again, hoping his eyes plead enough how sorry he is and to please let him out. Nathan cuts a makeshift hole in the duct tape over his mouth and threads the tube through. with a bit of wriggling and opening his mouth a bit more it gets past the ball gag. Nathan leave him again and Zayn thinks he's actually leaving him here over night. He spends the entire time choking on his own saliva and fighting sleep. On more than one occasion he slips under the water line and he understand the purpose of the tube in his mouth._

_Later on he begins shivering, and then it gets really bad. On the contrary to earlier where the water had burnt him (Zayn can see the blisters and burn marks) this is turning him into ice. At one point, he can't remember when Nathan must've come in because how else did ice actually get in the bath._

_Finally, finally, Nathan comes in and undoes the tape above his violently shivering form, pulls the plug, the tube out of his mouth and leaves again. Zayn whimpers because how long will he be here?_

_Nathan comes in again, gripping his hair to force him to look him in the eyes. Hard and cruel and unforgiving._

_"If you ever think of leaving me again you're wrong. If you want to leave this is the way you'll do it, understand?"_

_Zayn nods, he thinks that the shivering helped with the force of it._

_"Good boy, I did this because I love you and I can't have you just going off like that ok baby? I think we'll need to work on some stuff though. But because I love you and I'm kind I'll let you out now. I was going to have to leave you a bit longer but I think you learnt your lesson, yes?"_

_Zayn nods even more violently, he'll never be able to leave, ever, but oh god please get him out of this tub!_

_"Good boy." And with that Nathan hauls his sodden form out of the tub and lays him on the floor. First removing the gag and Zayn feels like he can breathe again._

_"I'm s-s-sorry, s-so so sorry N-n-nath-th-th, I-I-I'm-m s-so sor-ry." He chatters as Nathan rips the tape from his abuse flesh, making him cry out involuntarily. You can see the red burnt skin more clearly like this although it has been dulled and treated by the freezing water that followed. He shivers as Nathan wraps him in a towel and tells him to go make their lunch or else and despite being numb and cold he does as he's told and cooks up baked beans on toast along with bacon and eggs and onions because they both like it and he's so cold and shivers incessantly, still not out of the t-shirt and boxers he wore in the tub. Nathan enters the kitchen to watch him work._

_At one point he turns around and asks if he can please have a jumper,_

_"Do you want to be back in the tub?" Nathan asks as a response and Zayn immediately turns around to finish the food. He's still shaking as he dishes out the plates and by some miracle he doesn't drop Nathans plate as he places it on the table along with a glass and a few different juice boxes and a jug of water to give Nathan an option before he gets his own food. He begins coughing once the meal is finished. But his request for a jumper is denied as he's told to clean up and organise the table, kitchen and living room._

_"Thats better Zaynie. Much better." Nathan actually smiles at him once it's done, he stands before him in his still wet t-shirt and boxers and feels like he did a good job - he pleased Nathan and he won't be hurt. He coughs violently when Nathan grants him the request of a warm shower and dry clothing._

_Zayn still ends up sick, and Nathan won't let him stay in bed. He's too terrified of what will happen if he doesn't work so he does as he's told and as a result life goes on._

 

_\------_

 

Zayn sat up in a cold sweat, crying quietly as he remembers that time. He feels miserable and cold despite having two duvets onto of him and lays back down, trying to quieten down so Liam won't wake up and lays there for the rest of the night. Attempting to purge the terror that ran through his veins, the terror that sealed his fate with his relationship with Nathan.

 

 ------

_Ring ring, ring ring._

_"Hello, Tricia speaking." There's a pause before he answers._

 

_“He-hey mum.”_

_“Zayn?” She sounds shocked “Is that you?”_

_“Y-yeah.” He clears his throat._

_"Oh my gosh."_

_"Yeah, we’ve been working on talking a-and isabelle said to pra-practice and that maybe-be phone calls would be easier than skype or face to face to practice."_

_Oh i see, well it sounds like youre doing fabulously, how have you been?"_

_"Good."_

_"Is that a good as in ‘no not really good’ or ‘I'm actually really good’?"_

_"Erm, it's a bit of both. I'm not sure how i feel a lot."_

_"Ok, well it's better than nothing then, isn't it?"_

_"Yeah. Er, actually wan-wanted to tell you some-something ma." He stutters as he speaks and he feels frustrated._

_"What's that darling?"_

_"Erm, Li-Liam told me that you want to come down and I, I think thats ok. He asked me and-and asked if it's ok and ye-yeah I want to see you sometime. If-if you want to that is."_

_"Oh thank you darling, of course I want to see you, I love you, but if you find yourself uncomfortable let us know and we’ll postpone, ok?_

_"O-ok mum, thank you."_

_"Not a problem darling, we want you to be ok with it."_

_"Thanks."_

_"Well what have you been up to?"_

_"Nothing much, h-how are the girls?"_

_"Oh they're fantastic-" and she goes on for the next five minutes to tell him what they've been doing and the award Safaa just won at school the day before. By the end of the call he’s a little teary and the voices in his head bang on and on about how worthless, how thoughtless of an older brother he is. How much of failure he is, over and over and over._

_"Thanks for telling me mom, erm, i got to,got to go, so… yeah."_

_"Alright, it's been fantastic talking to you Zayn, I hope you call again soon, it makes me happy you're talking."_

_"Yeah, it's nice to hear your voice too. Erm, there's one more thing you need to know just before though, er, so, basically Harriet, Isabelle and the boys helped me with taking him to court, an-and he's in jail, bu-but yeah."_

_"Oh yes?" She sounds confused._

_"Yeah, I mean, it's weird because i don't really know how to deal with it, i really think he loved me and that it was me but they said that he wasn't treating me the way he sound and that i may not get it but i will one day."_

_"Oh I'm so glad honey, thats made me so happy. you never deserved any of it you hear me?" He can hear the tears over the phone that she cries and it plummets him even further down,  he's  responsible for that,  he's  the useless piece of shit that made his mother cry._

_"Please don't cry ma," he sniffs. "I don't want you to cry."_

_"Ooh, I'm sorry honey, I don't mean to make you unhappy and I never want you to be unhappy again but it's hard to think of how bad you’ve been hurt and you never deserved any of it baby I promise you yeah?"_

_"Yeah."_

_"Ok then, bye love, I love you very much and you're welcome to come home any time you want if you need to visit and that if you ever need us we’re not far away."_

_"Ok, thanks mum."_

_"Bye dear, I love you."_

_"Bye."_

 

-

 

He hangs up phone with tears pooling in his eyes. He can only assume Liam enters at the same time because he's been listening out and heard the conversation end. The second Liams eyes land on him - his  _fat, stupid, worthless, disgusting_ form sitting lazily on the couch, not even looking pretty, just useless. He's moving over to kneel before him, thumbing his knees and the tears out of his eyes. "Zayn? Zayn darling what's happening?" He doesn't deserve to sit in his presence. 

"E-e-rm… n-not much, jus-st." He tries to hide, avoiding Liam’s eyes.

Liam moves on his hunches in front of him, and he makes the mistake of taking a momentary glance to meet his gaze and that's all it takes for him to double over in tears.

"Zee honey what's making you so sad?" Liam moves up onto the couch, pulling him into his arms.

He can only spit out, absolutely livid with himself; disgusted by himself "I-I abandoned them!"

Liam shifts closer, "Abandoned who?"

"My-my sisters! M-ma just had t-to tell me all about-t them from when I first g-got with him until today." He feels himself more than hears himself shout and begin hyperventilate. "I-I-I-I'm such a t-terrible br-brother, I'm supp-posed to look after them and c-check on Waliyha's boyfriend beforehand, like all b-brothers who-should b-because that’s j-just what yo-you do and-and keep them safe and hear their stories, and go to school productions. B-but no, I-I abandoned them, I left them and just forgot about them and I-I'm a worthless piece of-of shit who do-doesn't deserve any-anything but wh-wh-at-"

He can't finish the sentence and Liam doesn't let him. Silencing him by cutting him off with "no, no, no, beautiful, you didn't. You didn't, ok?" He holds his face in his hands. "I never want to hear you say you deserved the shit that prick put you through, you didn't and so what you've been away a bit? That doesn't make you a terrible older brother, it doesn't mean anything, they love you just the same and they will never stop loving you. Do you hear me?" He coaxes him to look up at him again, kissing his forehead and temples. "Are the voices telling you all that?" He asks gently, no judgment in his voice. He's still crying as he nods to confirm to Liam yes they are.

"Well, sunflower, they're lying, ok, they're lying."

Zayn finds himself shaking his head, to which Liam presses on that "they're lying Zayn they're lying." And he can't stop himself crying as Liam repeats it over and over, pulling him into his lap to rock him back and forth - at first he resists

"I'm too heavy Liam." And Liam shakes his head, "Those voices are lying babe, you're not, you're not, you're not."

Zayn grasps a hand in his hair and pulls, hard, punishing himself for this, telling them to stop but Liam grabs his hand before they do and rubs the knuckles. So he uses his other hand and pinches at his stomach, aching for the pain, aching for some control over them.

"No, no, babe, stop that ok, talk me through it, don’t needlessly suffer, talk to me, we can work this out."

Zayn sobs as he tries, and he really, really does, to tell him but most of it comes out as unintelligible and incoherent. But he tries.

Liam hushes him when he stops, no longer able to say it. "Here, one moment baby," He slides Zayn off his lap and he lets out an embarrassing whimper. "I’m going to get something, I'll be back in 30 seconds, ok? Count for me babe, shut your eyes and count, one, two."

He does as Liam says and cries as he counts to thirty, when he opens his eyes he sees that Liam has bought down his art stuff and a roll of newspaper. 

"Here darling," he says as he rips the newspaper apart and lays it out. "Is canvas ok?"

He nods as he slides off the couch and kneels next to Liam, at first Liam lays the canvas over the sheets but he sees Liam hesitate, get up and get the easel standing to attention in the corner of the room. He brings it to the newspaper and he begins to understand Liams thought process. Quicker than he's ever seen Liam move before he picks up an assortment acrylic paints and individually squeezes out a generous amount onto a wooden flat and pickup a range of brushes. Standing up in front of him Liam gestures he take a brush and holds out the wooden flat so he doesn’t have to.

Standing by him with a hand rubbing at his hip over clothing he selects the thickest one of the bunch, stabbing it in the black and slapping a long, thick line of black onto the canvas, next red and another black. Hitting the canvas as hard as he can without tearing it and letting his emotion pour out of him, his self-hatred, his frustration, the terror of his last nightmare, his anxiety, everything goes into those violent strokes of paint. Within a few minutes he's calmed down a considerable amount, tears stains down his face and he sets the thick brush down. Selecting two thin ones and tracing the outline of a tree in the middle through the paint so there’s a white outline, at first he wanted to do a wolf but his hands are shaking too much for that. 

When it’s done Liam is still next to him and he lets in a huge shuddering breath as he turns and asks "do you still have that frisbee with the hole in it?"

Liam immediately sets the flat down, kissing his forehead again and rushing to retrieve the aforementioned frisbee. Meanwhile he turns back to the canvas and fills out the first edge - the bottom right hand corner. Liam returns in record time with the old frisbee and a part of his thinks he should check with Liam this is ok - another tells him to fuck it and he uses the large brush again - still full of black and red paint. He sets the frisbee off on the top left corner and paints around the edge filling it in to give a just part quarter circle in the top corner, and uses the inside along with white paint and the next largest brush to fill it out, the colour is murky and he dabs the paint brush through trial and error of a bit more white and a bit more black to make the moon of this painting darker and ominous. He adds detail, wiping his brow with the back of his hand as tiredness begins to seep in, refusing to stop now, and with Liam by his side once more, letting his emotion pour out into the painting, adjusting mistakes and blending colours until he has his final piece. 

He takes a deep breath and lets it go, staring at the painting and letting the brush slip through his fingers onto the newspaper below. Liam engulfs him, holding his head in his hands and hushing him as he lets go, relaxing into the hug and allowing the stress to evaporate.

"There, there darling," Liam cooes. "Do you feel better?'

He nods into Liams arm, taking deep soothing breaths.

Louis finds them there, half an hour later in the same position, rocking side to side and back and forth in front of the painting. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually wanted to cry bc i typed up the session with isabelle and walked away to have dinner and found out i had been logged out of my account meaning my work had been deleted and i had to start again, if it's shit i'm sorry and i cry :( why you do dis AO3?
> 
> If it's a bit all over the place im sorry, i dont mean too but please comment and let me know what you think.
> 
> Alos: if ur looking for a good set of fics do check out the 'Blood of Five' series by zayniekins. I'm so hooked on that series u have no idea and i'm sure you'll love it too. @zayniekins , if ur reading this i am so excited for your update and i love your work. :)


	19. Parents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry I had this all ready to go so you could have this on xmas/boxing day but then i did the whole 'save before posting' since i had a few touches to add and the sever failed so I lost it all *cries* (bear in mind this chapter on word is 36 pages long and 10,955 words aha) so given that this is the second time it's needless to say i now have a complex saving system including multiple copies bc im over re-writing over and over.
> 
> I hope you like, I was worried its rushed? Or a bit all over the place? Please let me know in the comments They really encourage me. Or maybe just leave something that you really liked/want to see for me to wake up to in the morning?
> 
> IMPORTANT  
> I need to warn you that in a few chapters there will be a very confronting chapter, ill warn you all a gain at the beginning, if you are in a delicate mainframe or easily tripped up by this stuff I suggest you skip the chapter and at the beginning of the next chapter ill provide a summary so you dont miss out on anything ok? Let me know in the comments if you need me to do that bc i love you all and last thing I want is someone upset. Alright?
> 
> -
> 
> I saw this on a fic I read recently and I hope the author doesn't mind me copying what she wrote down because it was exactly what i wanted to convey and she did it just as i would've so yeah:  
> Source: end notes - 'Control' by LiaIsInLove 
> 
> THERE IS NO SHAME IN ASKING FOR HELP. If you or someone you know is suffering -- and I mean suffering -- and struggling with an eating disorder, I urge you to please seek the help that you deserve. I promise, you deserve it.
> 
> International Resources:  
> http://www.eatingdisorderhope.com/treatment-for-eating-disorders/international
> 
> U.S. Resources:  
> http://www.nationaleatingdisorders.org/resource-links  
> http://www.anad.org/eating-disorders-get-help/eating-disorders-support-groups/
> 
> Online Resources:  
> http://www.nationaleatingdisorders.org/online-eating-disorder-screening  
> http://www.b-eat.co.uk/get-help/about-eating-disorders/information-sheets/
> 
> Please remember to be kind to yourself, patient and compassionate with others, smile, laugh, spend time with people who make you happy, and above all else, remember that "kindness is the language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see."
> 
> Do not give up. Do not lose faith. Stay strong. Each and every one of you are worth it. I'm going to leave with a wonderful quote, 
> 
> "To the world, you may be just one person, but to one person you may be the world."
> 
> Lots of Love,  
> -Lia

**N I A L L**

 

He really enjoys the time that he and Zee have together when it's just the two of them in the house, he really does. It's so good to be in the presence of someone he missed for years again and even if they don't talk he genuinely appreciates the time they have together. If he's honest he probably learns more about himself and Zayn in silence than he does in conversation. Zayns always been quiet, an introvert around anybody who wasn't them or family and he's so comfortable to be silent around. No conversation is needed to have a good time. 

Since Zayn got back he's noticed that he tends to get a bit more serious around Zayn - maybe that's protective instincts coming out - he's not sure, but he doesn't always like it and he only realised after spending one on one time with Zayn. He makes a conscious effort to keep a carefree light attitude form now on. Especially as that seems to be his strong point. Nurturing his friends by being easy going and always ready to care for them in the true Irish-spirit he'll never live down.

However, this time he's around the silence is not comfortable, Zayn is having a bad day and it's clear to see. Yes, it happens and it's not the first but Zayn isn't responding at all and it makes him wonder if this is what Liam means when he calls and says he's taking the day off because Zayns not doing good - they have a bit of a rota see, where Niall takes some days, Harry others, then Louis and of course Liam. It changes from morning and afternoon and whole days, theres no structured timetable, just whoever free. It makes him wonder if they're back to square one and if the last few months have actually happened.

 

It's not Zayns fault, he knows, he's done his fair share of research to make sure he knows what is required in this situation but he's never realised how bad it could get.

Zayn looks near dead. His features unemotional, eyes devoid of any form of life. He's so unmotivated to do anything and doesn't really respond to anything Niall asks, it looks like it's effort to even shrug his shoulders. He'd been ok earlier and Niall's tempted to call Liam because this is not ok. The last time he had to deal with anything like this was when Zayn had that breakdown around dinner and then they went up and had their conversation... before Zayn started therapy. He's completely out of his depth here and wishes for nothing more than to know what to do.

This is where he becomes pragmatic; Zayn is getting lost in his head, he can't bring himself to do anything, so it's up to Niall to coax him out.

He turns on the TV and puts on a movie, disney because it's innocent enough and maybe Niall can get him to sleep. Through the first half Zayn sits on his own, but then he moves over and they have a good snuggle.

 

*

 

It works to some extent, Zayn seems to relax and actually move on his own accord compared to earlier where he had to be convinced.

Niall gets a work call around lunch time, when the two of them are in the kitchen and Niall's sorting out soup for the two of them. Liams cooker is less than shit and he has to re-light it every few minutes but it gets food done and that's what matters.

_Bringggg, Bringggg._

"Ah, shit, Zayn I've got to take this, you ok here to stir the soup?"

Zayn nods mutely and it completely slips Nialls mind to take the lighter with him. He chucks it down on the counter next to the cooker and scrambles with his phone to get a piece of paper to write down what he will surely need to remember.

He finishes the call and walks into the kitchen to find Zayn staring at the flame from the cookers lighter. That on its own would be fine, except Zayns also steadily picked up his left arm and is close to burning it with said flame and lighter.

Niall near shrieks and when he does Zayn snaps out of whatever trance he was in, dropping the lighter and breaking down in sobs simultaneously. He buries his face in his hands and Niall comes up to wrap his arms around him, like he's seen Liam do. 

"I-I'm s-sorry I'm so-so s-sorry I-I was-sn't thinking and, and i-it just- I'm sorry don't hu-rt me p-please!" He chokes out "I-I did-un m-mean i-it I-I p-prom-"

"Hush, hush." Niall shushes him and rocks him side to side. Now glad the cookers extinguishes itself because he can get Zayn into the living room without fear of the kitchen catching fire. He sets Zayn down in the living room before retrieving Zayns soup and a glass of water. He sets it down on the coffee table in front of the sofa and wraps Zayn up in his blanket. He then climbs behind Zayn and spoons him, hushing him and cuddling him to try stop his shaking. 

"Easy Zee easy darling, it's ok, you didn't, you're ok, you're ok, it was an accident, i understand, Liam understands, it's ok, it's ok just shhhhh, shh, shhh." He rocks Zayn side to side and cuddles him as close as he can. "it's ok darling, you're still clean, it's ok." Zayn shakes for another minute or so before Niall reaches around Zayn and gets him to sip some of the water. He ended up near swaddling Zayn in the blanket and Zayn holds the blanket under his chin anyway so his hands are out of action. He then turns on the TV, selecting a new film in a renewed effort to distract Zayn and picks up the bowl of soup and slowly feeds Zayn from wheres he's seated behind him, Zayn in the V of his legs. Hushing and cooing him occasionally, reminding him over and over that it's ok and he's ok and everything's fine.

 

\-------

\-------

**L I A M**

 

The glass clinks as he mixes the honey into the milk, a suggestion from a nutritional website. Zayn is seated on the counter next to him looking a combination of miserable and tired as his weary eyes watch the silver spoon poised in Liams hand. Liam smiles up at him, enforcing as much positivity here as he can because especially after what happened earlier with the lighter (Niall had filled him in) he knows Zayn is in the eye of a shit storm and needs it. 

"C'mon babe, here you go."

Zayns features fall and if it was possible he looks even more unhappier than before. Liam sets down the mug and moves to guide Zayn over. "Here babe, I promise, it tastes good and it'll help keep you warm." He warmed it up beforehand of course, hoping that the fid bits and mothers myths that warm milk helps you sleep faster are actually true and Zayn will sleep better tonight.

Zayn doesn't look up at him and it kills Liam on the inside, if he could make eye contact he could pull out what Zayns thinking, what he's feeling, what the next course of action is. But these times, these are the times Liam recognises Zayn needs to figure this out himself, these are the times he recognises that Zayn needs to escape his head on his own without Liam. Otherwise Zayn doesn't have a personal reason to do this, just the fact that Liam does it for him. Because right now, Liam is the enemy as much as food, because Liam is the one making him intake more than Zayn'd like, even if it's for his own good it doesn't hide the hurt that Zayn suffers.

 

*

 

Zayn doesn't sleep well that night at all.

 

*

 

When he rouses Zayn from his nightmare, unable to just sing it or soothe it off as he normally can Zayn near jumps into his arms.

Liam holds him close, nosing his sweaty hairline and kissing away his tears. They cuddle up under the sheets as Liam lays Zayn down and pulls him down with him. They sleep in separate duvets, that is, Zayn sleeps under both and Liam sleeps inbetween the two.

 

*

 

Zayn doesn't wake up screaming again. 

 

\------

 

**L O U I S**

Today it’s his turn to go around to Zayn and despite the recent events he’s optimistic that today will be a great day. He drives over to find Zayn asleep on the couch and Liam in the kitchen preparing lunch for the three of them.

"He didn't sleep last night." Is all Liam says as he pads his way into the room quietly.

He takes up the post next to Liam "No?" And begins to help preparing the food.

"No, it was bad."

"How bad?"

"Not the worst but bad."

Louis hums under his breath.

Between the two of them they prepare the food twice as fast and since it's still early, they leave the food to one side and go into the living room. It's been changed he notices, how Liam has hung up piece of Zayn artwork, including the one from where he, Niall and Harry posed. He must adit, Niall looks like and excellent cowboy and he makes an extremely regal emperor with a mop in his hand (they still laugh about it, and Louis genuinely believes they should dress like that for halloween "I mean c'mon guys, Niall as an Irish cowboy, Harry as a french girl and my regal charms will steal the show, we could really do something great with this guys!" "Shut up Lou."). He will never let Harry forget how, when he went to lie down tried to be all sultry as he said "draw me like one of your french girls." He and Niall doubled over in giggles and Zayn even laughed a little, something Harry takes immense pride in. 

He and Liam strike up a regular conversation, one he dubs as the kind from B.N. (he coined it first when with Harry and it spread, it stands for Before-N, and he can't even say the name, especially after the trial.) He hopes that when Zayn wakes up form his nap and they've had lunch they can try for a BN conversation too. 

At first he doesn’t notice, but he knows Liam heard something. It's plain to see in the way that he’s immediately on alert a small whimper emits from the couch and immediately, Liam was off. 

Louis stood back, watching as Liam rushed to the smaller mans side and gently, ever so gently began running fingers through his hair and shushing him. Then moving on to rubbing Zayns left upper arm, hushing him and soothing him, so gentle compared to the hysterical rush he was in literally a second or two before. 

He watches from afar at how, even though Zayn is unconscious, Liam is able to coax him out of his nightmare.

He doesn’t know why the thought has never really solidified until now, or why he’s never really confirmed it before but seeing this in front of him, he’s sure, so, so sure that no matter what Zayn and Liam can get through anything together.

 

*

 

_**Z A Y N** _

_Nathan came home with the news that he had a week off the following week, and Zayn’s heart stopped. They were eating dinner, or rather, Nathan was. Zayn didn’t need to eat anymore with the fat he has on him. He doesn’t deserve food and he doesn’t need it. Nathan uses two fingers to lift Zayns chin up. “We’ll have lots of fun.”_

_Zayn knows how to reply now, “Yes, we will daddy.” With a small, fake smile on his face. So fake he’s scared he will see through the bullshit._

_“You’ve been so good recently boy, such a good bitch.” Zayn tires to not let the tears roll down his face._

_“All for you, daddy.”_

_The words taste bitter and mortifying, like acid as they leave his mouth and he knows, he just knows that this week will hold no escape for him._

_But then his dream cuts off, and that's the end of it._

 

*

 

\------

 

**L I A M**

After the last few days Liam calls Isabelle for advise on how to get Zayn through to next weeks session and she links him to guided meditation techniques, telling him that Zayn needs space to sort his head out, that the PTSD is making a irritable appearance and that he needs some time alone. Liam shuts the blinds in the living room and rather than light any candles like he would do normally, (especially after what happened yesterday with Niall) he uses small lamps and piles pillows into the middle of the floor so Zayn can pick and choose what makes him comfortable. 

However, because he knows Zayn and knows he may not feel like doing one of these sessions he sets a whole pile of Zayns favourite books off to the side, as well as some art materials - including a colouring book Louis bought Zayn recently and of course, the piano is in here too.

He lights an incense stick (provided by the ever helpful Harry Styles) to try give the room the intended effect of warm, cosy and ambient. He shows Zayn when he's finished and explains what he has planned and almost manages to coax a smile out of the surprised Zayn (gasping and covering his mouth with his hands), but as he's told him before - he never wants Zayn to fake a smile and so he kisses his forehead and leaves him to it. Telling him he'll let Zayn be but he'll be back in an hour to check all is well. And then he leaves. He doesn't shut the door - the last thing he wants is Zayn to feel like he's been locked in but he doesn't want him feeling exposed either and so he leaves the door ajar, encouraging a constant airflow.

When he next looks in Zayn is listening to the guided mediation in the background while colouring in the book from Louis - completely oblivious to Liams presence. He leaves again and returns once more to see Zayn still there, listening to a mediator reminding him to breathe in and out, in and out and Liam really appreciates the ability to call Isabelle at anytime because he would not have figured out this would be best for him at a time like this.

Liams almost tempted to let him be through lunch. However, he knows he can't and so he gently knock to announce his presence and settles down next to Zayn, slowly pulling his attention from the colouring to him and encouraging him to come to lunch.

It's light and easy - a sushi roll (chicken and avocado) along with juice and Zayn seems shocked that that's all. Shocked but happy it's light and after he's finished he retreats once more, with Liam by his side to the living room (not before Liam makes them both tea) and settles in again. This time Liam is allowed to stay - and thank goodness because it's weird without Zayn by his side now. He doesn't like not knowing how he's doing and if he's feeling ok and if he's not if he can cuddle him to help him feel better.

 

\------

 

 **Z A Y N**  

Over the next few days they prepare for his parents arrival at the end of the week. Zayn notes, much to his amusement that Liam still retains the look of 'lost puppy' when it comes to laundry and bed-making related things. 

_They had been setting up Liams room for his parents - it had been ages since Liam had slept in here and all the bedsheets were wrinkled after leaving them crumpled. He felt bad and tried to say that he could just sleep on the sofa or the floor but Liam seemed to catch wind of what he was saying and shook his head, he kissed his forehead, telling him there was no way in hell or earth he would ever have to sleep on the sofa or the floor again and that was final. It wasn't aggressive but he wasn't sure how to take it._

_He watched Liam try to wrangle with a duvet and the duvet cover unsuccessfully and snorted quietly in amusement, the sound caught Liams attention and within the second he felt Liams eyes on him. His body froze as he wondered if he'd done the wrong thing, thoughts of how stupid he was entered his mind and he wished Liam would hit him for being so rude but instead Liam laughed along with him._

_"I know, I'm useless, usually mum or dad or one of the boys help me, but on my own I must look a right plonker."_

_Zayn shook his head and walked forward, slowly taking the duvet out and showed him how to do it efficiently._

_"Thank you Zayn." Liam thanked him, kissing his forehead again, and sometimes Zayn wished he didn't do that because he would find himself wanting to melt into a puddle, he felt weightless when Liam did it - and weightless is something Zayn has been trying to achieve for a long time, the second he has it and its gone the next - a good way to raise false hope. He likes it though, he likes it a lot._

When they wake up the day before his parents arrive Liam kisses his forehead again and tells him how well he did during the night (- that is he didn't have any bad nightmares or wake up and that seems to be something he should be proud of).

He looks in the mirror, where it's plain to see that the jumper swallows him whole and fits him better as a dress, the sleeves brush his knuckles and reach his mid-thighs. He has his now long hair swept back with a hairband and wears a pair of thin boots and thin joggers - they don't cling to him but they aren't as loose as he would normally prefer. He sees over his shoulder in the mirror that Liam has been looking one when he's analysed himself.

Liam slowly pads up behind him and wraps his arms around his chest - a safe place to hold because there's no fat there. He opens his mouth to speak but an embarrassing squeak comes out and he hangs his head in shame.

"Easy Zee, it's just me, you can do it." 

Zayn picks up his head again, this time he doesn't look in Liams eyes like he did before and instead looks between his eyes as Isabelle suggested in one of their first sessions.

"D-d-don't you-u t-think i-it li-ke?" Zayn stops, considering what he says next.

"Don't I think it's like what darling?" Liam whispers

"L-like f-fem-fem-in-ine?" He hangs his head again.

"Do I think it looks too feminine?" Liams chin hangs over his shoulder, nosing in the space in-between his ear and jawline.

Zayn nods mutely.

"On you?" Liam clarifies, a hand moving to rub at his upper arms.

Zayn nods again, flicking a glance up in the mirror.

Liam cocks his head to the side and considers it. "Well, maybe, why? Does it bother you?"

Zayn looks down again, the lump in the back of his throat is back and he's not sure he can say much more. He opens his mouth anyway, not answering with a nod or shake, just standing there gaping like an idiot.

"Zayn?" Liam crouches down to meet him eye-level. Zayn hides behind his hands so Liam doesn't see his face. In return Liam places a hand on the small of his back and leads him to sit down on the bed. "Baby what is it?" He whispers, handing him the whiteboard he invested in so he doesn't have to speak.

 _Do I look feminine like this?_ He writes.

"Well, maybe, but not much, why?" Liam reiterates and Zayn takes a moment to remember how much of an idiot he is.

He rubs out the marker with his sleeve. 

_I just-_

He rubs it out

_Nath-_

He rubs it out again.

_Is it bad?_

He doesn't look up when Liam reads it. "Is it bad for you to look feminine? Is that what you're asking?"

Zayn nods, still not looking up.

"Well, no." He says it like it's obvious. "Did Na-" He stops himself. "Did  _he_ tell you something like that?"

Zayn nods.

"What did he say?"

Zayn sighs and writes down  _He used to bash on me with how feminine I looked and how it was a bad thing, but then like-_ He rubs back the 'but then like' however Liam had already read it through.

Liam shrugs "So what if you're a bit feminine?" Zayn looks up. "Being a woman isn't a bad thing. Being a man isn't all about what stereotypes portray, it's about how you identify yourself and who you are as a person. More importantly,  _he_ was a piece of shit that treated you terribly. I can already tell he's a sexist piece of crap also, probably racist and xenophobic and all that. Anything he said isn't worth your time and you don't need to fret over anything he told you about yourself was wrong or incorrect anymore ok?"

Zayn hangs his head, Liam speaks so soft it doesn't sound judgemental or insinuate he's stupid but he feels it. He knows that it's perfectly fine to be a woman, but the comments Na- _he_ made about his weight, about what he looked like, earlier in the relationship when he wore skinny jeans and crop tops and this awesome [open black kimono ](https://www.thehunt.com/the-hunt/xFwbNB-zayns-outfit-in--steal-my-girl-)that was once his favourite - one that had exaggerated sleeves which he thought made him look like he had wings and had a part-time job as a dress. He loved it, but it got thrown out.

Liam pulls him closer into his side, like he knows the physical contact is reassuring. "What did he say when he found out you're muslim?" He whispers.

Zayn whimpers. Not wanting to delve into that too much. Nonetheless he writes  _told me it was a waste of time._ And that's all he's willing to share.

You see, opening up is  _so_ hard. Isabelle encourages him every time but they have yet to really go in depth about anything. Now he thinks about it, they haven't talked much about his past experiences so far, and he's talk borderline zero with anyone else. It drains so much to think you have to re-iterate those experiences, remind not only yourself but others too of how you're such a fuck up and one day, he's so scared of that one day where the boys and Liam begin to agree with the voices in his head and what Nathan did, when he strips himself bare -  _if_ he strips himself bare, naked and completely exposed, vulnerable of all that has happened and all that he's done they will sneer and laugh and he will be left with nothing. It'll be like ripping a band aid off an open wound - one thats been left too long and the gauze has joined with the scab and it leaves the wound even wider and vulnerable than before. 

Emotionally, opening up feels dangerous, like what he says is stupid, like what he thinks is wrong, like his opinion is fully invalid and Liam will laugh at him. He's counting down the days to when he does. He's terrified of Liam rejecting him, when all he did back there was imagine leaving, imagine going to Liam and the others, to his family - his parents and sisters. When he was -  _No._ He stops the thought immediately. He vowed to never speak, much less think of that again, he cannot comprehend the destructive nature behind that thought process and he sheds a few tears when he closes his eyes because even dabbling in there makes him grieve. No, no he stops there. 

He's aware of the boys coming over soon - as they constantly do now. So he slowly pushes away from Liam and stands, wrapping the cardigan around him tighter and grabbing a sweater to put over the top. After his breakdown in front of the mirror he's noticed Liam pays a lot more attention to his somatotype and he  _hates_ it. He doesn't want anybody looking at that filth. 

Then of course, his parents are coming over tomorrow to stay the weekend, and while he's excited he's also not.

 

\------

\------

 

**Z A Y N**

 

When they get back from his appointment with Isabelle he feels less drained than normal, just tired. Today Isabelle had gone through breathing techniques with him, especially eager after learning of his breakdown in front of the mirror. (Liam had asked him before he called because he's nice that way, but he doesn't really get why he bothers. Like, his permission isn't necessary anyway, since when does anyone actually want his permission to do something? He won't lie, it gets annoying sometimes when he sees Liam on the phone to Isabelle when Liam thinks he won't hear or they talk over his head - not that they act like he isn't there - but he figures he's quite a lot of [unnecessary] effort and they have to tag team it, so he gets over it). These techniques Isabelle called 'hypnotherapy relaxation' - something similar to 'safe space' he can use when he feels stressed and anxious or panicking or just generally nervous. 

 

—

 

_“You can apply it to when your eating too.” She tells him._

 

_He’s lying down on the couch he usually sits on, with Isabelle kneeling next to him on his right. “Just take in a slow deep breath through your nose, it helps to count to 4 mentally” - He does, with her hand on his chest - “and out through your mouth.” He complies._

 

_“Then you do it again and before you breath out name 3 things you can hear - or as many as you can.” He nods and inhales, feeling the pressure of Isabelle’s hand pushing down slightly on his chest; listening out and identifying the sound of birds singing and cars racing outside as well as the low hum of the building generator before he breathes out. “Good, good there you go.”_

 

_He’s surprised at how much this works. How clear his mind is this very moment in time. With his eyes still shut he inhales again. “Fantastic, now think of three things you can feel.”_

 

_He can feel her hand on his chest, the pillows and cushions from the sofa under him and by his sides. He can feel the softness of the jumper he’s wearing. He calmly breathes out._

 

_“Great Zayn, now open your eyes,” He does it, slowly because now it's a bit bright. “And name three things you can see.”_

 

_He can see her looking down at him, he can see the ceiling and he can see the back and end of the sofa where his feet are. He exhales calmly._

 

_“Brilliant Zayn, absolutely brilliant.” Isabelle compliments him, he smiles tiredly because he feels so relaxed he’s sleepy. She stands up slowly and goes back to her notepad._

 

_“So, Zayn. What do you feel now?”_

 

_He sits up, reaching for the whiteboard. ‘very relaxed,’ he writes. ‘sleepy too.’_

 

_Isabelle smiles at him, “That’s to be expected, especially the first few times, I'm so glad this works out for you as well, it might even work better for you than the guided meditation.” He nods in agreement._

 

_“So, on the subject of how you’re feeling, try tell me how do you feel with your parents coming around later?”_

 

_He takes a deep breath, lets it soothe out into his shoulders and says; “O-oka-kay I g-guess.”_

 

_She nods, smiling at him again with her eyes. “Nervous?”_

 

_He nods._

 

_“Why?”_

 

_In stuttered but much better than before language he gets out how he doesn't want to disappoint them by being so messed up._

 

_Isabelle writes something in her notes and says “That statement is incorrect but we’ll come back to that. How come you think you’ll disappoint them?”_

 

_He tells her that he doesn't want to disappoint his dad, that he’s not a good enough son to be accepted by his dad. He briefly thinks about the discussion with Liam yesterday and his questionable masculinity._

 

_“Why’s that Zayn?”_

 

_It takes him the better part of about five minutes for him to tell her because he wants to be the strong stereotypical son that he knows his father wanted him to be. Giving up on speech halfway through and turning back to the whiteboard that rested next to him, scribbling out the rest; that i just want to be good enough for him, for them._

 

_Isabelle seems to accept that for the time being and for one cringe moment he thinks it means she agrees with him, not that he doesn't want her to agree… just that he’s now a little used to her arguing with how he sees himself. He doesn't want that to particularly stop because as much of it is true, it makes him feel a little better about everything._

 

_“Zayn, how do you see yourself, at this very point in time? It doesn't matter what you write as long as it's truthful, and don't be ashamed by it at all, please.”_

 

_He nods, rubbing out the green pen and writing the following._

 

_Stupid, worthless, big, useless, messy, attention seeking, used, wrong, heavy, scared, but calm and ok._

 

_He can't fit much more, but Isabelle wanted the honest opinion, so he makes anxious eye contact with her, his distress apparently showing before he flips the board around and hands it to her so she can see. She takes the board when he hands it to her and he curls up, heels on the edge of the sofa, chin resting on his knees and arms wrapped around his shins._

 

_Gee Malik, he thinks, really done it this time haven’t you?_

 

_He’s not even sure why the voice is telling him that but he accepts it and figures he always does something wrong anyway. He’ll have found some way to have fucked this up too._

 

_“How come ‘but ok’?” Isabelle asks. He shrugs, not moving from where he’s curled up. He can't really bare to face her right now._

 

_“Well, Zayn thank you very much for being honest with me here. That’s very brave of you.”_

 

_He shakes his head, not brave, just fucked up._

 

_“You are,” she affirms, “and I can tell you for a fact that the others such as the boys and your parents will agree with me," She doesnt sound aggressive or like she's forcing the opinion on him, its interesting how she can do that. She continues, "especially Liam will tell you that too. That he’ll agree that at the moment the way you view yourself is in fact incorrect and that you’ve rejected the positive parts about yourself and forced on a negative point of view. I can tell you that that was done by Nathan through his abuse. You became so used to hearing it from him and experiencing it from him you began to agree. Accept what he was saying and then forced to adopted that persona. The abuse you suffered was so severe it manifested as a self hate, and drove you into not only an eating disorder but depression too.” He lifts up when she pauses._

 

_“I can tell you now you are a very resilient and strong individual, wether that’s by nature or because of what happened I don't know, but you are, and I hope we continue these sessions through because I can help show you that you are in fact a really remarkable individual, even if we’ve only been working together for a few months you have really worked hard at this, even if you might think you haven't and I can tell that by how much you have progressed already. It will be a long road, but we can do it - you have such a fantastic support system with Liam and the boys. It’s unlike any other I’ve seen the way you all interact, and together we can make it so everything will be more than ok, more than alright. We can get it to the stage where you can feel like you can accept love and support and compliments and most of all, happiness.”_

 

_Zayn’s crying by the end because you know what? He’d like that._

 

_He wants to feel happy, he wants to feel ok again, and not the kind where he feels like shit the day after, but can actually come back and not slice his skin or hate his body._

 

_This feels like hope._

 

——————

 

Ten minutes later Liam was there at the door to pick him up as usual, he open his mouth in an attempt to tell him _Hi Liam I missed you_. 

But 1) he nearly bites his tongue at the ‘I missed you’, in shock he did (not that he doesn’t, just that he’s grown very attached now and didn't even realise it). 

And 2) it chokes up in his throat. As per bloody usual.

 

But Liam, ever a gentleman; ever the best person in the world, smiles at his cut off garbled sound of a greeting and attempt to speak, hugs him like he’s the best thing in the world and he sags into those strong arms that have held him through the worst of days and now, worst of nights. Sighing as his head rests on his shoulders and hands flattening over Liams shoulder blades.

 

“You ok?” Liam asks him, pressing a kiss to the shell of his ear. He nods, lifting up his head to lean back and smile at him. Liam beams back and looks up, “Thanks Isabelle, see you in a few days.”

 

“My pleasure Liam, he did really well again today.” 

 

Liam smiles down at him again, but he hides in his neck. “I'm so proud of you.” Liam whispers in his ear. He smiles into his neck. Shrinking in a bit more because now he’s getting a bit overwhelmed. “C’mon beautiful, lets get you home.”  He nods into his neck again.

 

“See you in a few days Zayn, well done for today and remember the techniques we went over, ok?” He turns around from where he now is under Liams wing and nods back at her, feeling a little lighter as they leave the office.

 

—————-

 

That feeling of lightness doesn't quite stay however, when three hours later he's squirming in his seat at the dining table, trying to calm down a little after eating lunch (Liams upped the intake a bit now, it's small, but he notices it). Waiting for his parents to arrive. There’s only so many times one can use the techniques he learnt earlier to calm himself from seeing his parents in person, face to face for the first time since he was in the hospital just over 5 months ago.  

 

Liams sitting next to him, sipping his tea on occasion and doodling on his own bit of paper, plain compared to the colouring book that Louis bought him earlier in the week. Untouched at present and the tea that was also made for him staining a ring on the table. 

 

_Don't need the calories or the extra sustenance that tea will give you, you just ate fatty, no need for the milk or sugar in there._

 

He’s feeling a bit down now, fidgeting and biting a lip due to the nerves. His parents intend to stay for a few days - and depending on how things go nearly a week and he’s not sure he can keep up the act like he used to. Liam notices his discomfort and reaches out for his hand in his lap, setting down his tea to encompass it with both completely. He focuses on how his hand has been swallowed by Liams, Liams so much bigger than him ( _or maybe you’re just small he thinks… now he feels a little confused)._  

 

“You’re nervous aren’t you?”

 

It more of a statement than a question, but Zayn nods. Liam hums “Don't worry beautiful, it's gonna be great, ok? I promise. They love you.”

 

At that moment he hears voices behind the door and then a knock. He feels panicky now, they’re here, oh god. 

 

He wants to slap himself, _because who even freaks out when their loving parents come around? Who even?_ He starts to urge a little, but Liams there reminding him to breathe and it takes him back to his earlier session. Liam calls out a “Coming!” While he’s doing it and then when he’s calm he gives Liam a nod and stands with him to answer the door. Hanging back so Liam answers instead of him.

 

He heard Liam on the phone with his mum the day before they came. Advising his mother on how to deal with him.

 

_“You need to make sure you eat slow, so he doesn't notice too much that he’s behind, and you can't watch him either. He will eat, but it’ll take a while and watching makes him very self-conscious I think. It takes him a moment to warm up to the idea and get into this mental state, but, like, just don’t comment on it either? If you do look up and he sees you just like give him a smile? It seems to encourage him or something.”_

 

He had also gone on to explain to his parents about his quiet days and urging. Liam had always kept them updated and occasionally managed to get him onto Skype with them (Not that he wanted to avoid them, just that it's kind of  hard to face them all and with a phone call not always an option it makes him nervous). Liam had kept them informed about everything and he was so grateful, because as embarrassing as is it they would have to find out eventually. 

 

_“Just, yeah, don't pressure him. He’s still not that big on touching and has bad days, but that doesn't mean the good days aren't there. There can't be any yelling or too sudden movements. Just needs to be a relaxing calm environment, safe, really.”_

 

He’s glad Liam did, because when his mother opens up her arms for him as opposed to what he knows she’d usually do (run to him and slam into him with all her might). He feels a bit guilty, but it vanishes as he accepts the hug with a shy smile and his mother combs through his hair like she did when he was little. He sighs. Times like now are when he wishes he had the confidence (and ability) to talk. But then she lets go and thumbs his cheek, smiling down at him and he wonders when his mother grew between now and when he last properly saw her. 

 

(A small part of him, developed since leaving _him_ and all that Liam and Isabelle has told him, wonders wether it's actually because he shrunk).

 

“Hello dear,” His mother greets, “oh my goodness I've missed you.” She squeezes him a bit tighter. He nods in agreement and unwraps himself, feeling a little uncomfortable with the grip she has on him. She loosens her arm immediately and he steps back, gesturing for her to come in. 

 

_“He has spoken,” He remembers Liam saying on the phone. “But not a lot and it's a bit stuttered and broken, kind of like when you were on the phone with him, you know, but when it's face-to-face it's a lot harder for him, and he hasn't seen you in a few months now so that might make him lack confidence? He’s really trying so hard Trisha, so hard, but he just can’t a lot of the time. If he tries when you get here just be prepared for either silence or if he does try when he’s nervous it usually sounds like a squeak or a sound of some sort. he gets quite embarrassed by it and just looks away but you need to assure him it's ok and that it's really great he’s trying. Because he is and he doesn't realise that yet.”_

 

He opens his mouth because he wants to try, he had managed with Isabelle earlier of course, but that was different. 

 

He gestures to take his mothers bag but she shakes her head. “No honey, but thank you anyway.” He brings his arms back in again to cross over his chest, hands tucking into his armpits. He watches his mum greet Liam again, thanking him for letting them come down. Liam continues to say how _it's no problem at all_ , and how they're _always welcome here._ Liam turns and smiles at him, like he's the one to thank and has to give him s special thanks because he knows how nervous he is about this and it makes him wonder if he wasn't so fucked up that Liam wouldn't have to do that. His dad walks in then, his duffel slung over his shoulders and that’s when Zayn untucks his hands, setting his shoulders back and trying to stand up taller, show himself to be stronger and better than the shell he’s become. He reaches out to shake his dads hand 

 

(- and he’s not so sure why because he's always shouted a _‘hey!’_ and given his dad a hug before and when he was with Nathan, why is he going to shake his hands now?”)

 

He doesn't look up as his dad looks between the outstretched hand and the obvious distress his son is in in his presence. He dumps the bag on the floor. “C’mere son.” And slowly wraps his arms around him. Granted, Zayns a bit stiff because he didn't expect that. He relaxes though, wrapping around his dad too. “It's good to see you Zayn.”

 

He smiles and is so lost in the momentary comfort he attempts to say ‘you too dad.’ But all he can do is open his mouth and a squeak of all but two syllables leave his mouth. He becomes completely tense, hoping that no one heard but luck is not on his side. His dad rubs a hand up and down his spine, but he pulls away after a few and makes eye contact, nodding and giving his dad a fake smile (he knows they can see the bullshit).

 

“Well, come on in then, come on in.” Liam gestures, coming up behind him now and wrapping his arms around his waist, just like he does when he knows the nerves are eating at him and the voices may be there again (they’re in the background, telling him hopeless he is, can't even say hi to his own mum and dad, how pathetic). 

 

“Here, I’ll help you take them upstairs and we can give you a tour of the place.” He faces Liam who in turn kisses his forehead and lets go of him, taking Trisha’s bag and attempting to take Yaser’s, who politely declines.

 

When they’ve been taken to their room (which is actually Liams room, since he normally sleeps in Zayns bed now anyway, and Liam has told him he will continue to do so unless he becomes uncomfortable but even then he'll be in close proximity because "Zayn you come first,", not his parents opinion of him being in his bed), and given a tour of the house it's time for dinner.

 

“Liam dear, let me cook tonight, please. I haven’t been able to feed my baby in so long and you’ve been doing so much it's the least I can do.” Trisha argues when Liam tells her to sit down. He’s quite amused by this because he knows what his mum is like and he also knows what Liam is like. This could be interesting. 

 

“No, Mrs. Malik I insist,” Liam says, standing in front of her, “It's a long way from Bradford and you’re our guests.”

 

“Oh tosh,” His mother snorts, “I'm perfectly fine to do something.” She makes her way out, he can see Liam biting his lip; he knows that he doesn't want to oppress his mum and neither does he want to let her cook. 

 

“Mrs. Malik-“

 

“Oh both of you do it together!” His father interrupts, chuckling from the seat next to the couch he’s on. He doesn’t mean to flinch. At all, but the boom was unexpected. It doesn't go unnoticed by any of them. But he schools his features and shrugs when they look at him. Hoping the nonchalant look he tried for worked and they both go off because otherwise they may be here all night (he doesn't mind missing supper though, now he thinks about it).  

 

“Come on, bonding time.” His dad laughs, “Zayn and I will be fine in here while you go set fire to the kitchen.”

 

His mother laughs, “be careful dear, I may burn yours if you insult our abilities again.” She waltzes over and kisses him, Zayn can see the spark in his dads eye when she pulls back. He looks happy and he's glad.

 

_He’s always looked happy ever since you left. Maybe that’s why._

 

No. He shuts those thought off. He wants to enjoy time spent with his parents, and doesn’t want the voices to interfere. Both Liam and his mother leave for the kitchen after that, discussing what Liam planned to make and his mother butting in, “No, I bought down Zayns favourite,” She claims

“Teriyaki?” Liam asks. They both laugh. Of course, bloody teriyaki. 

 

After they've disappeared he takes a breath and exhales like he was shown earlier, before sitting up from where he’s slouched and attempts to look confident, attempts to look like the old Zayn and _be_ confident. 

 

After a minute his dad slowly stands up and take a seat next to him on the couch, wrapping his arm around his shoulder. “My beta, I wanted to get you alone.”

 

His heart sparks up at that, _what?_

 

“I wanted to see how you’ve been doing.” He nods, forcing his heart rate to settle a little and fists his hands so they won’t fiddle with the nerves. “Yeah?” His dad asks. “You’re feeling better now?” 

 

He bites the inside of his cheeks and avoids eye contact when he nods again, but he's not sure about this whole 'feeling better thing' he's not sick, he's... he's not sure what's happening actually. Looking at his dads sock-clad feet to avoid the gaze that burns him. 

 

His dad sighs, leaning in and asking quietly “You know it's ok if you’re not though, right?” He nods again.

 

“Oh Zayn.” He sighs. Zayn stiffens, not sure what he did wrong and forces himself to make eye contact. His dad looks sad in this moment and _gee Malik, way to go._  

 

His dad sighs, sliding off the couch to crouch before him, “Zayn,” He asks, Zayn makes himself look up again. Trying to keep how scared he is of failure right now, Scared to fail acting his part. “Are you sure?”

 

Zayn hesitates before he nods. 

 

“Has Liam been helping you out?” He suddenly asks and that confuses Zayn, and he nods furiously, the look of confusion must be all over his face because then his dad asks “then what are you scared of right now?”

 

Zayn freezes, his jaw clenching and nails digging into his palms, leaving red crescent moons in their wake. He wants to break the contact but his dad has always had such intense an intense stare, _he can’t._  

 

He shakes his head, as if to say. _No, I'm not scared, it's not painfully obvious I'm terrified right?_

 

Yaser sighs before him. “I was afraid this would happen,” He admits and Zayns confused again. 

 

“You're scared of me, aren't you?”

 

Zayn can feel his eyes bulge. _Oh god is he that obvious?_ He shakes his head but it's not nearly as fast as his previous ones. Not nearly as confident or convincing.  

“Zayn,” He softens his voice, placing a hand slowly on his knee and it take everything to not flinch again. “Please tell me the truth, are you scared of me?”

 

Zayn can feel himself getting shaky. Twitching as he averts the gaze. “Zayn please.” His dad adds and he nods, looking away from his dad and letting a few tears of shame escape his eyes.

 

“So yes you’re scared by me?” Zayn continues nodding. “Intimidated?” Zayn keeps nodding.

 

“I was thinking that may happen. Is it because of anything in particular. Do you just want to seem to be a man in front of me?”

 

Zayn bites his nails, and his hands are held, he flinches away in shock but Yasers got a good enough grip on them and he panics slightly. Nodding his head furiously. Turning to face him he gasps, his dad lets go uttering an _I’m sorry_. 

 

And _no_ , his dad should not apologise for his fucked-up-ness. He shakes his head. 

 

His dad pauses, he’s there for a bit too long and now Zayns feeling very uncomfortable as his dads unfocused eyes train on him. “Do you feel,” His dad starts, “and please be honest here Zayn, I won’t get angry wether you say yes or no. But do you feel like you're not enough to be my son?”

 

Zayn cringes because _no, I'm not enough to be your son. I’ll never be enough_ plagues his mind. _I wasn't to begin with, stupid Zayn being into art and not sport, being into boys and not girls, your stupid condition_ (he daren't go there again, that will tear him to pieces) _and then - you're overall fucked-up-ness is put on display. No, you’ll never be enough._

 

He bows his head shamefully and nods. _Do as you’re told_. The voice tells him. _You know what could happen if you don’t._  

 

He hears the rustle of movement and fully expects to be told. _Well damn, you got one thing right!_ But instead his dads hands are on his knees again and whispering his name; “Zayn, please look at me.”

 

He breathes in through his nose, names three things he can hear; talk between his mother and Liam in the very background, the hum of the radiator and his dads breathing. Then he exhales, looks at his dad and prepares himself for everything but what actually happens.

 

“Zayn Javvad Malik. You are my son and nothing that has ever happened or that will ever happen will change that. I love you and I know that you’ve been through so much.” Yaser takes his hand and kisses his knuckles before continuing. “It will be very hard to deal with as I can imagine and with me being your father and what society has told you I imagine you may feel the need to appear something you’re not feeling right now. Which is not the case. You are more of a man than most men I know, you are braver than the majority of my peers and you are a survivor.” 

 

He took in a breath and Zayn took that as the opportunity to try say something, but he couldn’t get it out, and ended up just sitting there feeling a bit stupid for trying, really.

 

“I don’t care that you can’t talk.” His dad suddenly said, Zayn felt his breath hitch and looked away around the room, just for a moment to avoid the gaze. It ended up falling into his lap, where his hands were being held. His dad continued “I don’t care that you find it hard to meet peoples eyes, obviously it is a shame because yours are so amazing, I don’t care about the stereotypes that say that because you’re male you should never have felt the need to slice your own skin to remind yourself your alive; I don’t care about society saying that because your a boy you’re never supposed to have felt the need to starve yourself, because you’ve been told over and over again you’re not worth it, that you’re supposed to be a strong, independent human. I don't care about other people. However, I do care about you, and you getting over this. I care about how you feel and I care about you recovering.” He paused when Zayn looked up at him. Yaser let go of one of Zayn hands and held it to Zayns face instead. Cupping it.

 

“You’re my _beta_ , Zayn, and I don’t want you hiding yourself from anyone, especially me because you feel you need to act a certain way in my presence. If you want to cry, dammit you cry, if you want to laugh, laugh, if you need a hug, get a hug. But, please Zayn; don’t deny yourself what you need if it’s going to help you feel ok. While I’m at it though: If you are getting urges, come to one of us. Don’t lock yourself away and try to deal with this on your own because you think asking for help makes you weak, or pathetic. You have been put through absolute hell and you cannot be expected to get yourself out of the war you’re in.”

 

Yaser paused to sigh for a moment.

 

“We love you Zayn, and we never want to see you hurt. But the fact is Nathan messed you up big time, and I honestly had to be held back when the trial was on because I wanted to kill that son of a bitch.” His face tightens up as he remembers being told what his son had endured for nearly two years; two years of sexual, physical, verbal, emotional, and psychological abuse, right under his nose. Zayn didn't even know they were there. He's a little shocked because he didn't really want them to know that much detail. But it explains his mothers confusion over the phone.

“We are here for you Zayn, and we’re here to support you in whatever way we can. Don’t shut yourself away, please, never be scared of us, never be scared of me. We want you to feel safe again one day, feel truly happy and secure and see you smile and laugh and sing and draw because, Zayn you’re incredible. You inspire me and you are so talented, so amazing and you’re worth everything to me, Zayn, absolutely everything. No matter what.”

 

Zayn smiles as he let the tears fall down his face, using his now free hand covered by sweater paws to wipe at his nose before crashing into his _baba_ for a hug. Yaser rubs at his sons back, rocking them back and forth on his heels and enjoying the moment. When Zayn pulls away he smiles at his dad again, a big one, the most genuine he’s seen so far this trip. Yaser has to return it.

 

“C’mon, I want to see what Liam and your mother are up to.”

 

Zayn nods in agreement, because he can only imagine how two of his favourite cooks are doing. 

 

As expected, they’re having an insignificant squabble over how to stir the Teriyaki and they only figure out they’re there when father and son snort at their ridicule. It makes the two cooks jump, but that only makes them laugh harder. Yaser’s full hearted and Zayn’s a small but bright giggle, nose scrunched up and eyes crinkled. 

 

Liam smiles at the two, his cooking forgotten and attention solely on Zayn laughing. He has never looked better, he decides and cannot resist going over to him and placing a kiss on his forehead. Zayn’s smile grows, because that always goes straight to his heart and makes him feel light and weightless and like he's floating and amazing.

 

They don’t hear Trisha snap a picture on her phone, the fond expression and graceful smile on his face as Liam kisses his forehead. Or the one after, of Zayn smiling wide, his tongue pushing behind his teeth and Liam smiling down at him, biting his lip. 

 

They also don’t hear the Teriyaki burning until it’s almost too late and then Yaser and Zayn, ever the partners in crime, proceed to point the fingers as to who burnt it.

 

And nobody realises the pictures are sent out to immediate family and the boys with the caption ‘ _today's a good day_ ’; the latter picture being set as her phone lock screen.

 

*

 

“No son of mine will ever be spooned half-assed.” 

 

Zayn is not sure he can take his father seriously ever again after that sentence, and furrows his eyebrows with a smirk at the man from where he’s lying down on his side on the sofa.

 

But he watches as Liam grabs an extra pillow and slides, squishing himself into the space between him and the back of the sofa and wriggling to get comfortable before his right arm is gently pushing under Zayn’s neck and the other is snaking around his torso, covering his left arm and threading through his left hands fingers, holding him so close, so safe. The other hand that’s under him grips at his left shoulder and hairpins around; holding strong against his collarbones and chest. Zayn’s right arm is folded under his chin so he’s quite comfortable and feels fully snuggled and encompassed. 

 

He shuts his eyes and feels Liam push his left leg between his and hook around his ankle and then a blanket getting tucked in around him. He opens his eyes to see his mum there and she kisses his temple when she’s done. He cannot contain his smile and giggles a little, squirming because he cannot contain himself right now; because he’s so comfortable and feels so good at that moment. He would love to stay and feel like this forever, tucked under Liam’s chin and held for eternity. 

His parents are beaming at him, like they too are truly happy in this moment. Liam kisses the back of his head, “Comfy?” Zayn nods, still smiling. He feels so good it’s like his heart and lungs are being squeezed. They won’t work quite like they should and it’s in the good way. 

 

He feels amazing while they watch ‘The Avengers’. He has a feeling his mum just knew what he wanted when she put the disk in. He definitely has an inkling because she sends him a smirk and a wink, it’s their form of secret communication.

 

He never expected today to go so well.

 

\------ ------

\------ ------

 

The next day doesn’t go quite as well as the evening before. He wakes up and he feels heavy. There’s something pushing down on his brain, and his heart and his lungs and his whole body. He can’t quiet breathe it’s so heavy and he just want to curl up and sleep for eternity. 

 

He falls back to into sleep but is awoken later by hands running through his hair and rubbing his back. Small calls of “Zayn?” and he reluctantly opens his eyes to see Liam looking over him. “It’s time to get up gorgeous.”

 

Zayn shakes his head and curls up, turning his face into the pillow. 

 

Liam expected this though, he knew today was going to be hard. So he sits on his haunches where he was standing and rubs Zayn’s upper arm before he softly tries again, “Please beautiful? Please get up?”

 

Zayn sniffs and shakes his head; he doesn’t want to, he can’t bring himself to. It’s too hard and he just wants to sleep and never wake up. Liam tries to get a hold of one of his hands and hold it but he pulls into himself more.

 

Liam sighs, but it’s not disappointed or impatient. It’s as understanding as a sigh can get. He sits on the edge of the bed and plays with Zayn’s hair, twisting it around his fingers, smoothing it out, massaging the scalp and so on for a few minutes to let Zayn relax some. “C’mon sweetheart, you can’t stay in bed all day.” And Zayn shakes his head, because _yeah, actually you can._  

 

“You need to have breakfast.” And he whines, because he’s _just not in the mood ok?_

 

Liam kisses his hairline, and breathes it in for a bit. Nosing the hairline and grips Zayn’s enclosed hands under his chin with his own, squeezing encouragingly, and almost as if he can squeeze the pain out.

 

“Please Zayn? For me? For your parents?” 

 

And _ok_ he may have forgotten they were here and as harsh as it sounds he _really doesn’t care_ who’s here. He just doesn’t care anymore. He’s just not motivated like he should be and he _can’t do today, all right?_  

 

Liam kisses his hairline some more, “We can do nothing all day, ok? But please get up.” Zayn sighs, utterly defeated and wants to cry. Liam’s not going to let up until he does so he pushes Liam’s hand away and takes a deep breath. He uncurls his legs and it takes every ounce of effort to just not sob from that action. Liam leans up and patiently waits when Zayn takes a break. He knows this is hard for him, he knows today’s going to be a bad day because yesterday was so good. Zayn’s going to hit rock bottom today if he hasn’t already, he probably feels dead, heavy, unmotivated and numb. His eyes say it all. They’re hollow and empty and continually missing the spark, but Liam knows it’s there, fighting even if Zayn himself doesn’t know it. 

 

Zayn rolls onto his back and stays there for a bit, unmoving and eyes trained on the ceiling. He sniffs but pushes himself up, curling the covers into his chest as he sits cross-legged. Liam pulls him into a hug. Kissing wherever he can “Thank you darling.” Zayn doesn’t respond. Just falls into Liam’s shoulder. 

 

They stay like that for a few minutes until Liam pulls away and grabs clothing for Zayn to wear, fresh boxers, a long red tee and his favourite black jeans. He sits back down and puts them in Zayn’s hands without a word and he feebly holds them. He feels weak, pathetic, stupid and the voices in his head keep telling him so. Liam kisses his temple again. “C’mon, lets finish up.” He places a hand on the small of Zayn’s back as he extends his legs out to place them on the floor. 

 

It’s painful, how long it takes him to get dressed. Even with Liam helping, but they do it and Liam places his hands on Zayn’s hips. Holding him steady.

 

At breakfast, before his parents come down all he has the motivation to do is push the cereal around his bowl. Even that makes him feel heavy and want to cry. He involuntarily curls his hands on his thigh, scratching the healing cuts through the material. Liam’s getting something in the kitchen so literally nothings stopping him when he pulls down his sleeve down and picks at the cuts there. 

 

He doesn’t mean to. It’s like he’s in a trance and only notices when it’s too late. The top two cuts are open and oozing slightly, red trickles down his arm. He lets out a sound – it’s not a sob but it’s desperate. He shoves down his sleeve and tries to ignore the burning, itching rage that’s now consuming him; overwhelming him. It tears him apart; he bends over in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest but then re-arranging them over the back of his head. Focusing on breathing and trying to think positive like Isabelle told him. Trying to tell himself _it’ll be over soon_ even though he knows it won’t. He wants to call for Liam, but _of fucking course_ his voice never works and there is _literally nothing about him that isn’t screwed up._  

 

He’s on the edge of tears and trying to keep calm but all he wants to do is feel _that._ He wants to feel the burn of acid in his throat and slice his skin, rip it off and burn it. He wants to try rearranging his features and hope that the result is better than before. He wants the feeling of calm and clarity. He wants to take away this hurt with _anything_ but he knows he can’t and he’s falling apart without it and he doesn’t know what to do. The lump in his throat is burning him, choking him. 

 

A hand is on his back and then another on his knees. “Oh Zayn.” He hears Liam breathe out but he can’t look up, if he does that he’ll shatter. He has to _just breathe_ and – “Zayn, look at me.” 

 

Liam’s voice is so gentle, so soft it breaks him more than any yell could. He looks up, meets Liam’s eyes and that’s it. He can’t hold it anymore. The tears stream down his face and a sob racks his body. Liam pulls him up so he’s sitting up in his seat and tucked under Liam’s chin. “Are you urging Zayn?” he asks, and Zayn sobs even more, nodding into his chest. Liam hushes him with an “Babe, I’m so sorry. I wish I could do something beautiful, I wish I could.” 

 

His body shakes and tries to speak, but as usual he just gags, fucked up syllables fall from his lips and he just cries harder. He finds his hand on his thigh again, digging into it and letting out a blissful hiss when he thinks he feels one on his left thigh break. 

 

“Oh gorgeous!” He hears Liam says and he knows he got caught. His hands are enveloped and he’s ok with that. They’re not tied down or anything, they’re being held and he can deal with that. Liam backs away and for a moment he’s scared Liam will kick him out for being so useless. But he crouches and runs his thumbs over the knuckles. “Baby, baby, how bad is it?” He asks, and Zayn shakily holds up 8 fingers, hiccupping and Liam holds them again, “Oh Zayn, I promise it’s going to be ok. Squeeze it out babe.” 

 

He clenches his hand as hard as he can in Liam’s, as if attempting to break them would somehow eliminate the pain and weight on his chest if he does. It doesn’t work though. _It never works._  

 

Liam’s encouraging him on, gentle “come on honey, let it out.” and “Remember what Isabelle said.” And he’s trying, he’s using an outlet that won’t hurt him, but it’s not as effective right this moment and he just wants to feel that sting more than anything right now. Clenching his hand until his whole arm is shaking with the effort but _it’s never enough._  

He lets his hands go limp with a sob and untangles his left hand before reaching over the table for the pad of paper and a pen because he know’s he’ll have to tell Liam he picked at them just now. It’s done shakily after Liam lets go of his right so he can write, and the page is wet. 

 

_I relapsed._

 

Is all it says, Liam pulls another chair up “When beautiful?”

 

_Just then, I’m so sorry._

 

“Hey, hey, it’s all right. Can you please show me?”

 

Zayn pulls down his sleeve. Revealing the two, picked, bloodied cuts. Liam places a hand of the back of his head and kisses his forehead. “I’ll be just a moment, ok honey? Stay put a second.”

 

While he’s gone he shakily writes his next line, Liam’s back before he can finish it though.

 

_I didn’t mean for it to happen, I’m so sorry._

 

Liam’s not reading it though, He’s squirting a small amount of antiseptic cream onto the end of his finger and then he’s smoothing it across the broken skin. It makes Zayn wince and he almost allows himself to relish in the feeling, but his mum walks through at that moment and immediately rushes forward. She looks at his wrist and he knows; he may not be looking, too busy staring in the opposite direction in _shame_ but he _knows_ she is. 

 

His shoulders shake with silent sobs but his mum’s there, cradling his head in her arms and hushing him. Liam places a bit of gauze over the red marks and wraps a bandage around it gently – too many delicate wounds in the immediate proximity for a plaster or band-aid. His sleeve is pulled down again and Liam is holding his hands again. Smoothing over the knuckles with his thumb. He reads the paper, “Zayn, it’s ok.”

 

Liam wipes away a tear with his thumb and Trisha moves her arm so he can cup his face, “it’s ok, I know you didn’t mean it, and you didn't even relapse, ok honey? you just picked at it - that's not the same as relapsing i promise, you've not broken your streak, and I know you feel like shit. We’re going to make it ok though, we’re going to help you in whatever way you need, you know that don’t you?” 

Zayn nods because he does and falls forward into Liam’s embrace. “It’s ok to feel like this, remember? Just remember what Isabelle said and whatever makes you happy, we can do it, alright? Just stay with me, ok?” His mum rubs at his back while Liam plays with his hair and yeah. When his dad turns up and he finally stops sobbing he’s feeling a little bit better.

 

\--

 

Later on he’s lying on the couch staring up at the ceiling and doesn’t really know what to do.

 

He’s been like this for a while now. Just lying there, staring at the ceiling and left to his depressing thoughts. His parents come in and out; but don't know what to do and Liam’s gone to work at some point but he’s not sure when or how longs its been. 

 

He hears his name called, he knows its Liam. Maybe it’s a little rude but he doesn’t exactly respond. He keeps on staring at the ceiling because he’s deemed it _too long to look up now and that will just be awkward_ and he’s telling himself _he’ll look up when he’s next called_. But he doesn’t get the chance because Liam just sits next to where he is on the couch and smiles at him. Zayn tries to reciprocate it _he really does_ but he can’t find it in himself to do so. So when Liam starts caressing the side of his face he sighs in defeat and just looks at his hands. 

 

They stay that way for a minute, but then Liam tells him “C’mon, got something for you.” He makes himself move, sit up and rotate round to sit on the edge of the sofa, Liam swings an arm around his shoulders and pulls him into his side and immediately Zayn’s feeling something other than numb, he feels secure. “I know today’s been a bit shitty on you and I remembered that Isabelle mentioned a good way to help is to express yourself in some way, and then we figured out that art is a pretty great method to help you out so I bought down your sketch pad and on the way back from work it occurred to me that you don’t have any charcoal, so I nipped around and I’m honestly not sure which kind I was supposed to get, but the lady said these were really good.” Liam produces a tin box from a brown paper bag and puts them on top of the sketchpad on his knees.

 

Zayn tentatively reaches for them, fingering around the perimeter of the box. These are really good quality ones and Zayn knows they’re not cheap.

 

Liam’s told him before that he never has to fake a smile for him. He doesn’t want him to. He can’t bring himself to give Liam a genuine one but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t appreciate the gift. He looks up at Liam and then noses at his neck. Liam knows that is his way of saying _thank you_ right now. Then Zayn knows when the other arm is wrapped around his shoulders and he’s being hugged it’s Liams way of saying _You’re welcome._

 

He’s thinking now about what he should do, so he slides off the sofa, sketchpad and charcoal pieces in hand and sits down, cross-legged on the floor. He opens up to a new page and lays it down on the floor in front of him. Next he opens the box of charcoals, discarding the sheet of plastic it came in and opening the tin, it makes a small screechy noise and a row of 20 or so charcoal pieces stand to attention before him in their little slots. He picks up a random one, some 3 in from the right and holds it in his hand, running it between his forefinger and thumb – staining them. 

 

He likes charcoal as a medium, its permanent, soft, can smudge for a fantastic effect and leave a dark footprint behind. 

 

He looks at Liam; he’s still in his work clothes – a business suit rather than his normal attire since he had an important meeting today. It’s black, black as the charcoal he holds in his hand. But he can’t draw Liam, not with this medium anyway, he doesn’t have the skill and would never be able to do him justice. He’s never quite sure of what the outcome of a drawing will be unless he has a specific goal in mind. So when the edge of the charcoal piece touches the paper in front of him he relaxes, lets his minds eye take him where he wants to go and stains the blank paper with his mark. He wrecks it, jagged lines smoothed by linear ones, vicious strikes smudged to black abysses. 

 

He’s there, destroying this piece of paper for an indefinable amount of time. He doesn’t notice Louis, Niall and Harry come in for their weekly meet-up (although its like every other day now). He bites his lip and furrows his eyebrows in concentration as he continues to mar the surface, blending the shapes and figure into its ultimatum.

 

_“Woah,”_

 

Zayn turns his head to see Niall staring down at the charcoal angel he’s been working on. “Zayn, t’ats,” he appears lost for words, “t’hats amazing mate.” And sits down next to him as a blush creeps over his cheeks.

 

And Zayn can accept that compliment, because he’s actually quite proud of this piece of work and is feeling a lot more relaxed than earlier, he feels a little cleaner and like some of the negative energy from his core has been drained away, replaced with that bit of inner peace he always gets after he’s been drawing. Isabelle has also told him that accepting compliments is being positive, and he knows he can always use a bit more positivity in his life.

 

He leans over and adds a few final touches while Niall looks on. The dark angel has no features; it has this blend of shapes and angles, which make up this face and its wings are magnificent. There is not really any detail in this drawing, but it is complex in this way that Niall cannot process. Its solid and then its also transparent, its beautiful yet it’s sad and it’s outstanding with this sense of simplicity and complexity. 

 

Zayn dates the drawing and lets out a sigh. He places his now much shorter stub of charcoal back in place and clicks the lid on top. His fingers are a permanent black that makes him huff out a short, amused laugh. He uses the scrap piece of paper he always has that he leans on whenever he’s working, making sure he doesn’t accidentally muck up a particular detail and covers the drawing with it to protect it before he flips shut the book, picking it up with his much cleaner left hand (he only used that to smudge) and the charcoal tin in his right and putting them on the bookshelf in their living room. 

 

He heads towards the kitchen to wash his hands. Watching as the dark medium clogs up the water colour and washes down the drain. He’s still a little out of it and doesn’t notice he washes his hands for a little too long. Just staring at the water and his hands until Harry comes round and turns it off, snapping him out of his trance. He quickly looks up and he sees the taller man, today his hair is pulled tight back in a bun. Harry leans forward and wraps his left arm around Zayn, it's long enough that it goes all around him.

 

( _Or maybe he’s still just too thin_ ).

 

“I heard you had a bad day today.” He hears Harry say conversationally. Zayn hums a confirmation. 

 

“I’m sorry.” Zayn shakes his head _no_. Simply because _why would you apologise, it's only my fault._

 

Harry wraps the other arm around him and he sags into him, his head over the curly haired mans upper left arm. Breathing, trying to further rid the weight on him but it just won’t budge. Another, smaller person comes up behind him and Zayn knows it's Louis. Partly due to the size difference and partly due to the smart arse quip of “Cuddling without me? How dare you!” 

 

Zayn huffs out a smirk; yeah. He'll get through this. Things will be ok.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, long chappie. Aha, hope you liked! Please comment they're my fave!
> 
> Incase it wasn't obvious, the bit with zayn in the middle of Louis' POV was his nightmare and its what happened before the bell bit in chapter 16 'court' 
> 
> Also, the breathing techniques are genuine. They work brilliantly. 
> 
> If you ever need anything, please message/talk to someone - friend, family member, school associated, therapist, etc. It really helps. As a survivor myself I promise IT DOES NOT MAKE YOU WEAK TO SEEK HELP, IT DOES NOT MAKE YOU WEAK TO TALK OR ADMIT YOU'RE STRUGGLING BUT PLEASE REMEMBER WHILE A FRINED IS GREAT TO TALK TO THEY'RE NOT A COUNCILLOR AND YOU COULD END UP HURTING THEM, ALWAYS TRY SPEAK TO A COUNCILLOR OR SOMEONE TRUSTWORTHY IN THAT SENSE. 
> 
> Fun Fact: Isabelle was the name of my first councillor and the character in this fic is who she is based off. 
> 
> I'm also available if you need to talk things out, I get it, pinky promise :)
> 
> Also, yes Yaser is lovely because he’s portrayed as a piece of shit way too much and the shirt that zayn said he used to love is the one from the steal my girl music vid incase i didn't quite describe it right.
> 
> With love and best wishes for 2016. :)


	20. The Calm Before The Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is unedited and im sorry that i took so long, i felt pressured to update bc I've not done it in so long and now im worried its shit but eh. I'll edit through later.
> 
> IMPORTANT:
> 
> Something I've realised which I did not really think of when I started this fic is that lots of people are now really relating to it and taking advice from it or other parts to heart. First off, please remember this is purely fiction and nothing that happens in this is worth you hurting yourself over. Also, the scene in the other chapter where Zayn has the flier on leaving Nathan ... NEVER ever be afraid of leaving an abusive relationship, ever, get out of there pronto, please dont take the fact that Nathan caught Zayn as proof that you can never leave these types of relationships - just leave, and never look back. 
> 
> INCREDIBLY IMPORTANT:  
> The chapter following this one is extremely confronting, read at your discretion, I will post a summary for the chapter after incase you decide to skip it so you do not miss out. Please protect yourself and treat yourselves right lovelies. It's not worth you hurting yourselves over a fic :)

“Here son, I've been meaning to give this to you.” Yaser presents Zayn what he’s been hiding behind his back while they stand in the hallway on the night before his parents are due to leave. “I realised that while you were… while you were away you wouldn't have been able to do much of this, and you may have even given up the faith completely with everything thats happened. But it’s yours to keep if you want it.”

Yaser hands him the decorated prayer mat with a Qur’an atop. He recognises them as his dads old mat and a smile tugs on his lips. Yeah, he had stopped officially praying when with Nathan and had been forbidden from visiting mosques. 

_(“I wont have you becoming a terrorist, Zayn, you're already brown.”_

_It slaps Zayn straight in the face when Nathan says that, he has never been so outrightly racist like this before. “Na-“  he begins to protest._

_“What did I say Zayn?” Nathan snaps, “What. Did I just. Say?” He repeats, grinding his teeth, daring him to argue him._

_Zayn gulps, “that I’m not to go.” He whispers, hanging his head. Fiddling with his hands in what is almost shame - he wonders since when he has been ashamed of his culture in anyway and he can't remember never fighting back about his right to be a part of it, but now, now is a completely different ball game._

_Nathan sighs, and Zayn looks up in time to see him running his hands down his face in exasperation. “Look, Zayn.” He sounds like he’s pushed to his limits. “First off, you’re brown, people can already identify you as trouble,” Nathan places a firm hand on his shoulder. “You already know I’m helping you with some behaviours you have, it's normal, ok?” Zayn hangs his head again in shame, tears burning his eyes because he’s never thought he was so wrong before, but now Nathan points it all out he sorta sees it. Sorta.  
“Second, I love you, I can't have you off with people like that  because, Zayn, it's not real. It not real, ok? there is no Allah above and there is no submission to this God above or prophets or other shit, if you are to submit to anyone, it’s me, do you hear? Besides, you’ve seen what happen in the media, someone could try to hurt you and I can't have that, alright? You're mine, I will call those shots, you hear me?”_

_Zayn nods his head mutely and watches as Nathan stows his prayer mat away under the stairs out of sight.)_

Yaser places an affectionate kiss on his forehead - Zayn thinks for a second that Yaser’s following Liams lead here. “Take your time, beta, if you need it, it's all up to you but I hope with time you find your faith with the good Allah above.”

His dad leaves when his mum calls him to their room, reminding him that he hasn't finished packing his bit. They all agreed that the period of time they'd stayed was best for now, and, not wanting to 'risk his mental health' in anyway had decided it was best to go this afternoon. He didn't really want them to go but he wasn't sure either. Whatever really. He wants to make his dad proud, and yes, he has long since turned his back on Allah in this context, but he's willing to try if it'd make his dad happy.

He rolls out the prayer mat and kneels on it to trace the intricate yet simple patterns. He doesn't pray officially or quite do more than run his finger over the fabric and the tassels, breathing steadily and focusing all his brainpower on what he's doing.

 

 

//////

 

 

"I have a question." Isabelle says after they sit down. "And I know you're having insecurity about speaking recently so we aren't going to push that for this session, we can stick to just yes and no questions and the board unless you want to try it, yeah?" He nods in response, picking at the end of his hoodies sleeve. "Remember our first session?"

He nods again.

"Do you think you could draw me that human body again please." And she hands him the board.

He does as requested, using a green marker to trace the outline and shows her.

"Again, fantastic drawing Zayn, if I'm honest I would've though that's an internet stencil." She laughs a little under her breath before looking up at him, flicking her fringe out of her face as she does. "Today I would like to address the issues you have with eating."

He visibly gulps.

"Recently you've been doing fantastic, and you quite seriously have."

Zayn doesn't look up, he feels irritated, broken, and tired. He doesn't want to talk about food, at all, unless it's about him having control over what he wants to eat again because he'll be damned if he has to up the intake any more.

"Have you ever considered that the root of your insecurities and depreciated body image is due to your previous abusive relationship?"

It leaves a bad taste in his mouth and he shakes his head - no, no he's just a screw up, maybe Nathan helped with screwing him up but for the more part he helped him. Helped Zayn try get better and what Zayn did in return was send him to prison.

He has never felt more of a sorry piece of shit in his whole life.

"How about a different approach? I apologise for making you uncomfortable."

He looks at her over his brow.

"Essentially, the root of everything you find negative about yourself - that is, your personality and your body image is founded by what happened over the course of your relationship with Nathan, correct?"

He nods.

"And through his action, your self-assurance and confidence was diminished, yes?"

Zayn isn't sure how she's figured this out, because he doesnt really talk about what has happened. He once mentioned how he couldn't leave him, briefly mentioned what happened in the form of his only option to leave Nathan (in the bathtub).

"-and then when he took control of your life, that is who you saw and what you did you subconsciously found a way to deal with a lack of control - by taking control over the one thing you could - your pain."

He shakes his head.

"No?"

He opens his mouth to speak, but he doesn't know what to say. How to tell her without actually telling her.

"So," She starts again, "my point is, the root of your negative outlook and lack of self-esteem is directly linked to the time period you were in a relationship with him, yes?"

He nods.

"That prior to your relationship with him you were alright with yourself, you enjoyed your personality?"

He stares at her for a long second before nodding once.

"And now that that relationship is over you have had issues with navigating yourself as a person due to anxieties and issues stemmed from that relationship?"

He takes a deep breath and nods. He scribbles down on the board and holds it up for her to read.

_I dont want to talk about this please._

She reads and nods her understanding, taking a different route and instead focusing on other events. Gentle conversation that doesn't bruise him so much in humiliation and anxiety.

-

Before he takes his leave  Isabelle quietly reminds him; "Just remember, Zayn, if you need anything, you can always ask for help. You have my number and any of the boys would drop everything to help you if you needed it, day or night, you know that don't you? Asking for help isn't a bad thing and will not make you a burden in any way, yeah?"

 

\------

\------ 

 

He wakes up wholly encompassed by the being behind him and it occurs to him that his body fits very well up against Liams. Liam has the arm under his body under his neck so as not to cause discomfort over his ribs or stomach and it hairpins around to his hairline while the other is pressed flat against his chest. His own arms are beneath the covers or under his chin as Liam had tucked him in under the lower duvet like normal, claiming how he didn't want Zayns arms to get chilly over the cooling night. His eyes steadily adjust to the light streaming in from gaps in the curtain and he thinks today will be ok. He shuts his eyes again and wriggles around in Liams hold so that he can face Liams chest. He likes how he can effectively snuggle himself in the broad expanse and that Liams arms alway keep him securely in - not in a bad way, no, in a good way and he feels like this is the one place he can truly relax and things will be ok. 

He must doze off again sometime because before he knows it Liam is stroking his cheek and basically cooing him awake.

He looks up from nosing between Liams pecs to looking up at him over his fringe, his hair is getting long now and probably needs to get it cut soon, but not now.

"Good morning beautiful." Liam greets him, his voice raspy form sleep. Zayn smirks and looks down again, avoiding the compliment and mumbling out his own "Good morning."

"How are you feeling today?" Liam kisses at his forehead and he half shrugs.

"Good I guess." He mumbles.

"Good enough to go out today?" He looks back up at Liam, brows furrowed.

"Where?"

Liams eyes brighten up, "The wildlife park?" He sounds hopeful.

Zayn thinks it over and he can't find anything wrong with that so he nods.

"Yeah?" Liam asks, confirming it.

"Yeah." He sighs into Liams chest, snuggling back in.

"Great," Liam kisses his forehead agin. "I'll call the guys over then." Zayn looks up at him in questioning but Liam only smiles down at him again. "Get up when your ready and make sure your dressed warm, I'll be waiting downstairs gorgeous." With that he clambers out of bed and makes his way downstairs.

It takes Zayn a second to realise that Liam just let him be, that Liam is leaving him alone with a bathroom around the corner. That he could go off at any moment and purge or cut, but Liam is trusting him not to.

It warms his cold rock of a heart to think that Liam's beginning to trust him, makes him feel like he's getting somewhere and that maybe he isn't as fucked as he thinks he can be.

-

Turns out that Liam and the boys have been planning this a few weeks already because when he's downstairs they all are there eating, ready to go out themselves. Harry bumps his shoulder and smiles at him, passing him a tea along with his usual morning vitamins (his parents had bought them down just so that they knew he was getting enough vitamin C, D and in particular B in his system). 

When they make it out to the car Liam takes the drivers seat and he ends up taking shotgun when the other three climb in the back, Louis in the middle, Niall behind him and Harry behind Liam. He hears Harry and Liam bicker a little over directions and Niall and Louis have a chat but he stares off out the window. The radio plays quietly in the background and when they're about 10 minutes into their journey he picks up on a [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sbRPGGJQao4) he quite likes. He looks over to Liam and points at the volume knob, "Can I turn the music up please?" He asks quietly and instead of giving an immediate response Liam closes his hand and fingers over his and turns up the volume with a smile. "Of course you can beautiful." He says. 

Rihanna's voice is still going and he mouths along to it, not singing, just mouthing too it.   
__  
"-trying to save me, stop holding your breath  
And you think I'm crazy, yeah, you think I'm crazy."

"Great choice Zayn!' Louis pipes up in the background and when Eminem starts to beat through him and Niall begin to rap from behind him, he shifts in his seat and watches because it's quite funny, especially when they hit a lyric they dont know and just mumble. Harry barks out a laugh but begins to back up with some beat as well.

_"Abused ink, used it as a tool when I blew steam (wooh!)_  
_Hit the lottery, oh wee_  
_But with what I gave up to get it was bittersweet."_

He bobs his head along and almost joins in with their rap, just because he thinks it kinda applies to hi but it doesn't really come out loud

 _"I'm beginning to lose sleep: one sheep, two sheep,"_ (He mumbles the sentence after because he has no idea what he was saying)  
_"But I'm actually weirder than you think."_

"Hit it Zayn!" Niall speaks up from the back and he kinda does.

_"I'm friends with the monster that's under my bed_  
_Get along with the voices inside of my head-_

He's not loud about it in any capacity, only under his breath but Liams turned the music up louder so he can sing louder without having to hear his own voice and that makes him want to try louder.  
  
_-You're trying to save me, stop holding your breath_  
_And you think I'm crazy, yeah, you think I'm crazy"_  
  
He can't stop the smile breaking out

 _"Well that's not fair!"_ He wants to laugh.  
_"Well that's not fair!"_

Harry cooes in the background, cupping his hands around his mouth to make the sound in the background and Liam laughs from where he's driving, glancing over at Zayn with this look on his face. A look which always gives Zayn confidence, like he's saying ' _its ok to build up to these things, you need the music to be louder so that you feel more confident, thats ok, what else can I do for you, is there anything more precious than you?'_ At least that what he thinks is what the look translates too because he's hear Liam mumble it in the middle of night and while he doesnt agree with it its something.

All three boys in the back join in together grinning like madmen when the next verse comes on,

_"Now, I ain't much of a poet but I know somebody once told me_  
_To seize the moment and don't squander it."_

He and Liam in the front bob along to it until Zayn feels he has the courage to speak up on a certain part. Belting it out along with the boys in the back and even gripping at his shirt, ignoring all inhibitions and going for it.

_"'Cause I need an interventionist_  
_To intervene between me and this monster_  
_And save me from myself and all this conflict_  
_'Cause the very thing that I love's killing me and I can't conquer it"_

He misses a line as he looks over the Liam who's got a smile on his face, its a little said but he has it there.

_"Keep knocking, nobody's home, I'm sleepwalking_  
_I'm just relaying what the voice in my head's saying_  
_Don't shoot the messenger, I'm just friends with the-"_

He doesnt stop, he just keeps going, Louis cheering from the back.

_"- monster that's under my bed_  
_Get along with the voices inside of my head_  
_You're trying to save me, stop holding your breath_  
_And you think I'm crazy, yeah, you think I'm crazy."_

He shuts his eyes, tilting his head back and pushing at his chest.  
  
_"Well, that's not fair!_  
_Well, that's not fair!"_

The boys keep going, they have a good rythmn going on here and he feels so happy its unbelievable. Liam places a hand on his thigh in the middle of the chorus, rapping his own part quietly which makes Zayn think it's just for him.

_"-But if one kid out of a hundred million_  
_Who are going through a struggle feels it and then relates that's great."_

It's short and maybe not the best song to go to but Zayn can't help but smile as Liam keeps his hand there.

The beat builds up from there creates tunnel vision for him, he doesn't absorb the presence of the others and instead he transcends to his own world, tilts his head back and shuts his eyes for the first of the two verses:

_"I'm friends with the monster that's under my bed_  
_Get along with the voices inside of my head_

 

In the back he can hear Niall mutter a "C'mon Zayn you got this."  
  
_You're trying to save me, stop holding your breath_  
_And you think I'm crazy, yeah, you think I'm crazy"_

Every cell is one fire, he feels unstoppable, he feels capable in this moment and he opens his eyes, belting out as loud as he can because he doesnt care he just doesnt care at this moment in time and he is infinite.

_"I'm friends with the monster that's under my bed-_

He taps his foot on the car floor, slapping his hand over the top of his knee at the same time to the beat  
  
_Get along with the voices inside of my head_  
_You're trying to save me, stop holding your breath_  
  
He stops tapping and uses his hands to gesture around, his pointer finger circling his ear as one would if they were silently communicating another  _was_ crazy.  
  
_And you think I'm crazy, yeah, you think I'm crazy"_

He hits the air.

 _"Well that's not fair!"_ He uses the dashboard in front of him to tap out the beat.

_"Well that's not fair!"_

 

\--

 

The wildlife park itself is great fun, since Zayns managed to put some weight on and is eating carbohydrates he has more energy to walk around most places. They have to take regular breaks, because Zayn gets tired or out of breath which is understandable. They're not here to rush, they're here to have fun. Liam made sure to bring Zayns board so it's easier for him to communicate but by mid-day he doesn't really need it. Yes, his speech is stuttered and not as good as it used to be but they're getting somewhere with it. At points Zayn looks frustrated but Liam kisses him on the forehead and reminds him thats it's ok to take his time and Zayn looks like he believes him. Zayn also seems to be fine with eating today, something they were all paranoid about. They made sure to find a quiet shaded spot away from everybody and take up seats to block Zayns view of other people and vice versa. The first bite of his sandwich looks hard, but he makes it through a lot quicker and a lot better than normal. Harry, the little sneak he is makes sure to take thousands of pictures, especially when Liam and Zayn are walking next to each other, Liams arm securely around Zayns waist and Zayns head resting against his shoulder. Niall and Louis coo behind them when Harry shows off a picture he took and Niall makes it know that the height difference is very important. 

-

On one of their breaks they stop next to a small children area with a petting pen. Sure, they're mainly young children and one teenage girl with whom Liam presumes is her younger brother, but Zayns looking in the direction of the petting pen with curiosity.

"C'mon, lets go then." He cocks his head and holds a hand out to Zayn. Zayn looks at him with a confused expression, "Lets check it out, you look interested." How someone can blush from that Liam doesn't know but Zayns face becomes flushed anyway as he lowers his head and takes his hand. Liam can't help but press a kiss to his forehead and laugh at him as he pulls him out of his seat and leads him over from the bench with the boys in tow. At first they just watch but a ranger in the pen lets them in for a closer look. 

The lady gently passes over the baby duckling to Zayn and Liam swears on his life his face just lights up in happiness. It's absolutely adorable how Zayn just giggles at the tiny animal in the palm of his hands and continues on throughout the pen with him and the boys, just petting the baby animals and cooing at other ones. It's like today Zayn's not thinking about anything negative, it's like he's having a day off from depression and anxiety and Liams never been happier. It reminds him of when they were young children and always talked about getting a dog or a cat one day and that they could have as many as they chose because it was the two of them and no one else mattered. Liam wonders if Zayn still likes the idea of a pet, in fact, he can imagine that having a pet would be good for Zayn, just because it may help him have a non-human friend or someone to cuddle if he doesn't feel like he can go to one of the boys, yes, Liam can picture the two of them living together with a kitten or a puppy and the domesticity frightens him. He doesn't know why, maybe because he's never felt like this with anyone else before. He doesnt know and for now he doesnt really care. He's happy and Zayn is shining like the fucking sun and they're all having a fantastic day away from the shit of whats happened so far this year. He won't let anything tamper with Zayns mood today and, as they all move onto the tiger enclosure - Zayns favourite animal, it's not hard to let it slip his mind for the time being.

 

\------

\------

 

A few days later and Liam finds himself taking Zayn out for walk. He can literally see Zayn overthinking so much he can nearly hear it and decides the best solution is to get him out the house for a little. The negative vibe form over thinking that Zayn gives off it billows in nervous waves and so he wraps him up warm, gently sliding a beanie onto his messy, bed-ridden hair and out they go to the park. This time they leave the car at the house and walk to the park, because it's a lovely day and there's no reason to drive a short distance in this weather.

Almost as soon as they reach the park Zayn threads his hand in the crook of his elbow and he smiles so much his cheeks hurt, they don't need to say anything, but Liam makes a point of having some small talk so Zayn isn't stuck up there, after all the point of this was to gently coax him out of the bad thoughts. They comment on the scenery and talk about unimportant things, Liam notices that Zayn is speaking barely above a whisper, and yes he stutters and its mostly one-worded but he has never been prouder that Zayn is fully attempting this conversation. 

He is delighted by the smile he manages to coax out of Zee and it all seems perfect. Picturesque just as a labrador wearing dog cone runs up hill with other black dog.

Zayn stops in his tracks and freezes up. Liam has no idea what's going on but it's not good, not good at all he establishes as Zayn begins to shake.

"Whats wrong?" He asks, but Zayns eyes are unfocused and not on him, his hand flies out of his and Zayn uses it to run through his hair, uncontrollably shivering. "Zayn?" He tries to see where Zayn is looking and he sees the dogs chasing each other, nothing a-miss but now Zayn is hyperventilating and Liam doesn't know why he can't drag his eyes away from the dogs or how it's possible that Zayns having a panic attack in the middle of that park. It doesn't matter this very second that there is a trigger somewhere, what matters is that he can try and stop this.

"Zee? Zee, babe," He gently takes a hold of his individual wrists "Zee, honey I need you to look at me ok? C'mon lovely you can do it, listen to my voice, I've got you, I've got you." He rambles on and on, focusing on his tone and trying to make himself as least threatening as possible but Zayn isn't speaking and he's still shaking and has gone white as a sheet.

"Zayn? Zayn?"

Liam witnesses the second it happens, the moment that something in Zayns brain switches off when he screams, in shock himself as Zayn drops to his knees and then his heels and curls up into a ball, wrapping his arms around his legs and shaking even more. Liam is down by him in a second but when he touches him Zayn flinches away from him screams even more and its enough for Liams hand to fly off as if he'd been burnt. He can see the cold sweat on Zayns brow, glistening in the sun even though Zayn's hiding his face in his knees.    

"Easy, Zayn, honey, please look up at me, it's ok, I'm here, you're safe darling, whatever hurting you, you're safe I promise, I've got you." He doesn't touch him, obviously this is one of the times where touching him is not ok and he needs to keep his distance but at the same time he has to step in and stop this attack from escalating. "Zayn, Zayn baby please look at me." But Zayn is unresponsive, his hands move from gripping his legs like a vice to the back of his head and hands into his hair. He focuses on encouraging Zayn to look at him, reminding him that he is safe and working to get Zayn out of this, reminding him to breathe through it in and out in and out and he sees Zayn breathing again, a lot slower and he assumes it's a breathing technique from Isabelle.

He pulls out his phone and dials her number, holding it to his ear as he continues to coo and whisper encouragements at Zayn and inches closer to him, not touching but close enough that Zayn will be able to register his presence.

Isabelle doesn't pick up, he calls again, she doesn't pick up, Liam realises he is alone in this. Yes, Zayn has calmed a little but its not enough. He's tense, so tense and is not looking at him, he keeps on talking him through, now that the dogs have disappeared it's quieter and while Liam can hear Zayns muffled sobs he can work through this, he can and Liam reminds him so. 

Another half minute and Zayns still not calm, in fact if anything his breathing has become erratic again, Liam dares to reach forward and checks his pulse, it is going way to fast and the millisecond that Zayn looks up at him, tear-stained and blood shot eyes looking for the source of who is touching him he notes that Zayns lips are going blue too. Zayn is simply not getting enough air into his lungs and is not in the best position to do it so.  

Zayn cringes to get away from his touch after he looks up and lets out another sob so Liam backs off again, holding his hands up because now Zayn's looking his way, he can do this, he can do this.

“It’s ok, it's ok darling I'm not going to hurt you.” He cooes, not making another move to touch him but Zayn doesn't seem to recognise him or the gravity of what is happening, he's hyperventilating.

"P-p-p-ple-ple-ase d-don't t-t-touch-ch m-me. I-I d-don't wa-want t-to be-e t-tou-ch-ch-ed." Zayn convulses with each syllable and hiccups.

"Ok, ok gorgeous I won't touch you but I need you to look at me and breathe ok?" He focuses on his voice and tone being as soothing as possible. "It's going to be all right, remember what isabelle told you? The safe space, maybe that'll help, yeah? Can you do that for me beautiful?"

Liam can see Zayn recognises and that he's doing his best, that he's pushing through, attempting to calm down some. He continues to coo and hush and soothe this out, letting him know he's safe, that it's ok and he can come back when he's ready, that it's all going to be ok. He wants to cry himself because this is not something Zayn should ever have to deal with, ever and all he wants to do is cuddle Zayn up and keep him safe, hold him so all his broken pieces come together again and all Zayn will do is smile and laugh but he maintains distance because Zayn does not want to be held, Zayn is hurting and touching him is not ok in this situation, and unless Zayn decided he wants to be held of course Liam _will_ stay back. 

Just when Liam sees Zayn is truly becoming coherent and calm again the dogs from before canter up the hill, the same two labradors with the one wearing the cone. 

Zayn screams and in the span of a millisecond he's back to where he was before.

Lim has no idea what is going on and what is triggering these attacks but it has to do with the dogs, he stands up from his post beside Zayn and stands in front of him, shooing the dogs as calmly as he can, at first they halt and stare at him but then when the owners call again they scram and Liam is so thankful. He crouches in front of Zayn again and goes straight back into soothing Zayn best he can. "They're gone babe, they're gone, it's ok, you don't have to worry anymore, I'll protect you, always, darling, you're ok, you're safe."

Zayn looks up from his knees again and stares at Liam with these wide, overwhelmed, panicked eyes and Liam inches closer, "It's ok," he whispers, "you're safe I promise, I'll protect you from whatever it is." Zayn nods and shivers in response, Liam can almost see what he's thinking, how the feeling of panic is there, how he's on the edge of it all over again and can't shake the feeling off, like he wants - no _needs_ it gone, and _now_. It's like he's pleading Liam.

"I've got you babe," he promises, cooing best he can from where he is. "Just breathe lovely, you can do it, breathe, breathe for me, in and out like Isabelle showed you." Zayn nods, shutting his eyes and taking a very shaky breath and trying to hold it but he can't. Fresh tears spring and it's like he's panicking again but Liam shuts it down immediately. "No, no babe that was great can you take another breath for me?" Zayn nods after a moments hesitation and does as instructed, it's shaky again and he doesn't hold it for nearly as long as 3 seconds but he's got this, and Liam reminds him.

Zayn stares at him with continually overwhelmed eyes and this element of desperation that grounds Liam, reminds him this is not a game and that Zayn is relying on him at this moment and he cannot disappoint him. He will not fail. 

Zayn follows his lead for the next half minute but he's still not getting anywhere, he isn't exactly full on panicking but he's not calm either and his chest is raising up and down too quick to be healthy and his lips are still blue. He knows that earlier he said something different but this is not stopping with the rate they're going and evident in previous situations the best way to calm Zayn down is to reassure him, and Zayn has always been reassured by physical contact, gentle physical contact. In addition, he can't watch Zayn go through this anymore.

"Zayn, darling gorgeous can I hold you? I can protect you from whatever it is." He keeps his voice soft, looking Zayn straight in the eyes and holding his hand out as an open invitation for Zayn to take or reject at any moment.

He's surprised with how quick Zayn nods, but when he does he's on it within the second. At first Zayn freezes at touch but eventually lets himself relax with it. Focusing on his breathing as Liam navigates himself, shivering. Liam sits behind Zayn who’s still crouching on the balls of his feet and hugs him from behind, slipping arms around his torso and chest. Again, just speaking calmly and reminding Zayn to _breathe, just breathe darling I've got you_.

He crosses his legs and spreads his hands flat over Zayns chest and leans back, pulling Zayn into his lap and kicking their legs out, he uses the other hand to quickly roll Zayns shoulders back so his diaphragm is expanded somewhat. "Push my hands away darling, you can do it, just breathe, you’ve got this."

Zayn follows his instruction, Liam doesnt think in this situation Zayn could avoid it anyway, he looks gone, so far gone into whatever this attack is and Liam is terrified. The owners and their dogs come up again and Zayns wheezing.

"Shhh, ssshhhhh, babe, it's ok, I've got you, don't look at whatever it is, ok, you're safe, I'll protect you."

Zayn's still hyperventilating as one of the owners runs up, and seizes up, rigid in fear.

"Hey, mate you all ok?" The man asks, worry evident in his features. "you need me to call an ambulance?"

Zayn shakes his head stiffly before Liam can answer "he's having a panic attack, one of your dogs I think triggered it so if you could please get them out of sight that's best, I've already called for help but thank you." he says as quickly and politely as he can and the stranger nods, jogging away to get his dogs away.

"C-c-c-c-c," Zayn starts choking, limbs frozen and unable to breathe. "C-c-c-oh-oh-oh-nh-nh." He gags as tears continue to pour from his eyes. 

"Babe, it's ok, don't talk right now just focus on breathing ok?" Zayn's body has slipped in this position so Liam gently helps him sit up again and he sees that the dogs and their owners are still not quite out of sight. "Here, shut your eyes, focus on my voice, focus on breathing ok?" Liam slips his hand up and covers Zayns eyes gently, because he read up somewhere that people experiencing attacks like these can't always just look away from the trigger. He immediately rushes into hushing and soothing him as best he can because this is new and strange and possibly reminding him of something but as long as he can get Zayns eyes off the trigger they may be able to get somewhere. He has to get Zayn back to reality as fast as he can.

"Shut your eyes lovely and keep them shut for me ok?" Liam says as he takes his hand away, Zayn has already shut his eyes, screwed them up shut. Liam tugs on the lapels of his coat and wraps them around him as much as possible, wrapping Zayn up within his coat. He begins humming, singing some far off tune and goes back to covering Zayns eyes because he knows when Zayn relaxes his eyes won't be so screwed up anymore. 

“It will pass. it will pass.” 

His other hand worms its way from the lapels to press against Zayn's stomach. "Breathe Z breathe." He reminds him, finding it unnecessary to tell him to push his hands away because Zayn's already doing it, trying so hard to fill his lungs and push the hand away, one inhale and exhale at a time.

“You are safe you are so safe I promise. Nothing's going to hurt you and you're going to be ok.”

They stay like that for what feels like hours, Zayn slowly pushing through it as his breathing slowly returns to normal again, Liam holds him through it all, hushing and rubbing and soothing as best he knows, regretting leaving the car at home because there is absolutely no way Zayn is in any state to walk home and he doesnt know if he can carry him... thinking about it Zayn needs warmth and food and something other than leaning on him all the way home. When it's over he just fully sags against Liam, still crying and fully exhausted. But they stay like that, wrapped up together and Liam takes out his phone once more, calling Harry because he's the most recent of the others he's called. Zayn still looks out of it, dazed at the very least so Liam isn't sure if he's listening or not, he doesn't think he is. Harry answers the phone (thank god).

"Hey Harry... We're not good, Zayn had a panic attack ... yeah no he's not, it was really bad... at the park, I didn't bring the car... Yeah can you please come get us? ... Thanks Haz... yeah ... ok... see you in a few then... just around the corner from the main tree, ya know? On the hill... Yeah, see you soon Haz." The conversation is short and Liam is really glad he chose to call Harry because he will go straight into business when it comes to Zayn, he'll make sure he's safe and ask questions later unlike Louis and Niall who need to know whats happened beforehand.

Zayn sighs from where he is, seeming to just absorb the fresh air around them. Liam shuffles him up and Zayn turns himself in his lap enough to hint he wants sideways. Liam helps him and when he's seated comfortably Liam wraps them up again and Zayn hides in his neck. Breathing in and out, slow, so slow.

“I'll protect you.” Liam whispers, feeling like it's necessary. 

“Safe space daring, think of safe space.” He kisses his forehead.

Its only been 5 minutes or so when his phone rings in his pocket - its Harry's ID and Liams brow knits, theres no _way_ Harry was that quick, right? He answers it "Hello?"

_"Hey Liam, I'm so sorry man but I can't leave, traffic is so shit here I'll just take forever but I've called Jo and she's on her way."_

Liam sighs in relief, for a moment there he thought they were stranded. Jo knew about everything, they were such a tight-knit group that Louis mum might as well be his own and Niall's might as well be Zayn (even though they still live in Ireland) - all their families did and being the closest parent and the mother of 7 children, including the only and only Louis Tomlinson he knew she would be here quick. Which was good because Zayn was mutely shivering.

They quickly finish the conversation and Liam hangs up, going back to cuddling Zayn close, rocking him back and forth, soothing him even though the attack is finished. He runs his hands through his hair and rubs his arm and tells him how _it's all going to be ok_ and  _they can work through this_ that he  _doesnt need to worry about anything, he can just relax and sit back and just breathe._ After a quick check he can see Zayns lips have gained a bit more of their natural colour but not enough. 

They're there for however long it is - Liam doesn't really keep track, focusing on Zayn.

Liam hears the car pull in before he sees Jo, the wheels riding the gravel of the nearby parking spaces crunching under the weight and halting. A car door slams open and shut, footsteps lightly running over the grass. "Hey baby," Jo says softly as she crouches next to them. This is the first time she's seen Zayn in person for years she hides her shock of how he is well.

Liam stands up with Zayn in his arms and carries him to the car bridal style where Jo - _blessed Jo_ bought a duvet and pillows so he sets Zayn down on the side seat and sits in the middle. He buckles them up and then uses pillows and the duvet to make Zayn more comfortable and wrap him up. He still looks so overwhelmed and bone-crushingly exhausted. 

When they get home Liam helps him change and downstairs Jo prepares some warm milk to make hot chocolate. They get downstairs and Liam leads him to the couch, tucking him in with one of the duvets off Zayns bed and helping him lay somewhere between sitting up and flat on his back. Zayn rubs at one of his eyes with a pained whimper on his lips. Immediately Liams hands are brushing through Zayns hair and he presses a warm kiss to Zayns forehead. "What is it lovely?" 

Zayn whimpers again. "H-hurts." And sniffs, using the other hand to cover his eyes and hide where he is neck-deep in covers.

"What hurts baby?" Liam asks softly, still brushing his hair and gently pulling Zayns hand off his eye by the wrist.

"M-m-my h-he-head." He whimpers. 

"Oh baby." Liam cooes sadly, "It's just from lack of oxygen ok? Deep breaths and sleep will help it go away, alright?" Zayn nods. "When Jo comes in I'll nip upstairs and get some painkillers alright babe, just hang in there ok?" Liam kisses his forehead again, leaning in really close and covering him up completely, blocking the lights from the kitchen and hallway that stream into he room, making sure Zayn isn't looking anywhere but him unless his eyes are shut.

Jo comes in with a hot chocolate and Liam helps Zayn sit up against the back of the sofa - propped up by a multitude of pillows which seem to swallow Zayn whole. Liam takes his leave to get Zayn some pills and Jo stays with him, making some joke about how Louis wishes he could make Hot Chocolate as good as hers and gets him to try some. Liam is back quickly and Zayn takes the paracetamol with some hot chocolate. Liam sits on the edge of the sofa as he was before, Jo kneeling beside him. Liam hooks and arm around Zayns shoulders and noses at the space under his ear, "you're safe here darling, so safe." Zayn nods drowsily, but Liam doesn't actually know if he's heard him. Exhaustion fully takes over Zayn and he begins dropping off from where he's seated. Without a word Liam's supporting the back of Zayns head and lowering him down as he was before, in fact Liam's convinced that Zayn is asleep by the time they've laid him down again and tucked the blankets in around him.

 

\--

 

Later, Isabelle returns his call and Liam explains what happened from when they left to house to when they were picked up.

Her immediate response is “How have you been looking after him since?”

He tells her about how both he and Jo basically got him to sleep and made sure he was warm and felt safe, as well as his plans on getting him a bath later.

“Fantastic, now what happened specifically, do you know what triggered him and I need to know his response.”

Liam stumbles, because he doesn't really know. "I-I, it was caused by these two dogs running up the hill, but, he's been fine around other dogs? So I don't know." He bites his lower lip.

"Was there anything specific about either of them?" Isabelle asks.

Liam fumbles, thinking hard, and genius strikes. "Zayn tried to say something at one point, he said something 'khon' like, I couldn't really understand him but now I think about it one of them was wearing a cone?" It sounds more a question than a statement.

"Yes, that was it." Isabelle says, she sounds like she knows something he doesn't, but Liam isn't offended. Zayn will come to him when he's ready. "Ok, well then Liam, what you need to do is keep him warm and maintain that he is safe, he may wake up in a weird headspace but after some TLC he'll return back to his regular headspace. That bath is an excellent idea, I'll let you get to it."

"Thanks Isabelle, see you." He hangs up before she gets an answer, setting the phone down ready to shower Zayn in as much love and affection he has in the hopes he will see him smile again before bed.  

  

\------

\------

 

The next few days, compared to the events at the park go extremely smoothly, after he had his talk with Isabelle over the phone concerning the attack and talked to Liam about it, and what happened to cause the trigger he's felt much better.

It's strange how he goes from feeling like shit to completely fine.

Well, not  _fine._ But manageable, definitely manageable.

It gets to the point where Liam has to go in for work but Niall is late coming round and Zayn is actually ok by himself. Liam obviously doesn't like it, but it'll be only 10 minutes and when he promises to call if there's an issue or he's urging Liam seems appeased, kisses him on the forehead and goes out with a small smile on his face. The house is a bit empty without someone else here, but he manages, in fact he goes and turns on the kettle, and makes Niall a tea for when he gets here. Answering the door is new - and that's weird, because it's just answering the front door. He's very quiet when he does, slowly opening the door to see Niall and its ok, he feels accomplished, he did something!

It's slightly pathetic, but he lets himself accept it and move on, he feels like he's going to be ok.

They play board games and Niall convinces Zayn to play the piano - a piece they look up together.

Actually, it's a funny story. Just as they look up piano instrumentals Zayn recalls the tattoo on Isabelle's wrist 'never let life kill your spark' and on a whim he types the quote into the google search engine and discovers it's a [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sOsOnY5jd7o). The original is a bit heavy when its late into the song and the chorus, but Zayn likes it and Niall accepts it. He never thought he'd be into heavier music but there he is. He feels a connection with it, with the lyrics, like the words sing what his soul is experiencing and he loves it by the time they listen to it once, like theres a dark cloud in his chest which is temporarily alleviated with the music. He sees why Isabelle has it tattooed and Zayn thinks one day, if he likes it enough he'll get a similar one. From there, they find a piano cover and within two hours, Zayn has learnt it and the two of them sing along to it in a cleaner, [acoustic version they create](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BNmu9KeVRE4).

At first it's hard because of how quick it is, so they move on to just past it and go from there, and in the future when he's more confident he'll go to the fast bits but for now he's satisfied with how he's done. 

Zayn almost feels happy.

\--

Over the following days each of the boys encourage Zayn to find another song he likes from the band or similar ones and learn a bit of the song, sometimes his heart isn't in it but if he does it enough he can do it, he can and it relaxes him, it helps him organise his thoughts along with the keys.

\--

Other than that, they watch movies and when all 5 of them are together they play other games. One night they play twister, not Zayn though - he doesn't want to, but he is more than satisfied to take position as the spinner and spectator, because, Harry has enough issues standing and the four of them playing twister is the most hilarious thing he's ever seen. 

\--

From then on he still has bad days, but they're not terrible, he just feels like shit but he can work through it and thats ok, it's all ok. He hates food but he can keep it down and sometimes his arms itch but he just surprises his urge and it eventually - through good distraction and ignorance - goes away. 

\--

It goes a little like this:

Remembering the session with Isabelle, where she asked him to list how he felt nowadays and he wrote 'but ok' at the end...

This is the 'but ok'.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm adding this onto tumblr and doing that picture thingy, you know what I mean, I practiced with my new one-shot 'One Touch and You Shiver' (no judging if u read, i was in a mood) but I had issues finding the pictures bc I fail aha, so from now on if you see a picture which reminds you of this fic or that you like please send me to link in the comments, I'm adding pics form now on anyway bc I think it's good to have some visual representation. :)
> 
> Love you all, please stay safe my lovelies.
> 
> EDIT: So because I wanted to do it i tried googling ‘Zayn Malik Duckling’ because I wanted to attach a cute pic should I find one, and I swear I am so done with this fandom because this is what popped up on the first bar of results: https://41.media.tumblr.com/b4c3beb4875fd011e2967f8a10ba5fea/tumblr_inline_o1nb7u4XBG1sj1t2t_540.jpg
> 
> I made a tumblr post on it too if u want to check that out bc its quite funny even tho im not: http://you-wont-zee-me-coming.tumblr.com/post/138195377387/k-so-i-was-googling-zayn-malik-duckling-because


	21. Triggered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING:  
> THIS CHAPTER IS VERY CONFRONTING AND IF YOU ARE EASILY TRIGGERED OR OVERWHELMED DO NOT READ THIS CHAPTER.
> 
> I will post a summary on the next chapter of what has happened to recap so no one misses out but just be careful my lovelies ok? Stay safe because it's not worth it if you're going to be sad after this, but from now on, things are going to start looking up, I promise.
> 
> K, I think I've warned you all enough now.

It was a fortnight after they visited the wildlife park when it happened. The boys had all been working through their usual routine and on more than one occasion Zayn was able to stay home, wether it was Liam had to get back to work to catch up on what he'd missed or the boys were running late or whatever situation arose that meant Zayn was left in the house on his own. The new found independence was much appreciated and scary, but he wasn't alone long enough for it to properly frighten him or for his mood to change from good to bad.

-

“I don't like leaving you home alone.” Liams brows furrow, "I promised youI wouldn't but then I kind of have, and I know you should be fine but we've been doing it a lot and I just hate it." He pulls out the puppy pout on morning before work.

Zayn smiles, taking a deep breath so he can speak “I'll be fine, todays alright, like, I'm pretty ok right now, I'm not urging or anything. i promise to let you know if things aren't.” Thats a new thing, Zayns been able to speak with a lot more confidence around Liam, not so much other people but he can with Liam and it makes him feel confident about restoring his ability fully some day.

Liam steps forward, cupping his neck and kissing his forehead. "Promise? I promise it's not a bother to call or text me beautiful, I swear.”

Zayn sighs half-heartedly. “Yeah, I promise, cross my heart, stick a sausage in my eye and all.”

That gets Liam to crack a small smile and he feels accomplished from their inside joke from so many years ago. "Im telling you, Zayn, needles hurt more."

Zayn smiles as he banters back, "Yeah, but you can have surgery where needles are put in your eyes, but if you get a sausage poked then you have the grease and everything, trust me Liam, sausages hurt more." He giggles a little along with Liam who kisses him on the forehead and goes to pick up his bits and pieces, shoving them unceremoniously into his shoulder bag.

"Alright then, Harry couldn't answer his phone because he was driving, apparently there was a car crash which has slowed him down from getting back from work. I have the bluetooth on so I'll be able to answer fine. I lo-" Liam stops in his sentence. Stepping in front of him on the bar stool and again, cupping his face and kissing his forehead. "I'll see you later beautiful, ok?" Zayn nods and Liam leaves.

Just a few minutes after Liam has left and Zayns at the table having a tea (breakfast was not a strenuous as usual) the mail man arrives and posts Liams letters and junk mail through the door and leaves. Zayn doesnt move until he's finished his tea and set it down in the sink. Simply going to pick up the stack of letters and arrange them from the magazine Liams orders form the junk and his other letter. Just as he's going through though he sees that theres one addressed to him.

 

He frowns down at the letter and wonders who it's from, he hasn't signed up for anything recently and he's not ordered anything or expecting anything whatsoever... What could it be? 

He sets it down on the table and first arranges Liams mail before turning up the stairs to go get changed from his pyjamas. As he sits on the bed he tears open the envelope, curious as to whats inside.

He gasps when he opens the envelope and recognises the handwriting inside. Nathans. 

It’s too late now, he’s reading the letter and each word, every character, is searing its way into his brain. He should wait for one of the boys or Liam right? He said he was on his way here, didn't he? His hands begin to shake but he can't tear his eyes away as he sinks onto the bed behind him. 

 

 _Thought it may be beneficial for you to see this, pig. -_ _Nathan._

 

Underneath the writing he sees a URL link. He manages to look up; to tear his eyes away from the paper and to the bedroom door. He can feel himself panicking now. _Oh God what is it?_ His breathing doesn't quite work right, so he slows down. Remembering techniques Isabelle mentioned. 

 _In and out Zayn, in and out._ A mental mantra as walks into Liams room where the laptop is and sits down, pulling it from across the bed, typing in the link <http://zmtriplen-chained.tumblr.com> into the URL search bar. 

His heart plummets and he feels his hands go clammy and cold while it loads, goosebumps trail over his body and he shakes in terrified anticipation. It takes what feels like hours to load. 

However, when it does he wishes it never had.

He reads the bio “I’m in charge” and underneath pictures that he didn't even know had been taken. Pictures of him. He sobs when he sees there’s a video of him from the hospital where he had been tied to the bed, along with the caption ‘told him so’. Followed by another static picture where the camera is above him, looking down. 

There are more pictures of him after that. One of him when he had been tied up with rope suspended. The caption reading ‘flying slave’ and ones post-beating; where he’s bruised and bloodied all over. He gags, silent tears rolling when he keeps scrolling and they just get worse. There’s one from the time he was tied down in the basement with the caption ‘needed to be put in line’ and with him wearing that _fucking dog cone_ (aw, man, boy hates this one). Then one where after his head had been shaved and cum all over his skull while he’s on his knees and tied. He cries when he sees images of him blindfolded and naked with his hands and feet spread eagle and tied to bed posts. He didn't even know Nathan had been doing this, what the hell is this?

He nearly screams when he sees a master-post of him in that false institute Nathan had set up. He scrolls down, seeing images of him in that white room, wearing white clothing and tied to a white bed and white sheets. He reaches the caption and it reads ‘needed to show him what would happen if he told anyone he’s insane’. Memories of that week smack him in the face. The terror of the ‘lessons’ he learnt back then and absolute degrading and dehumanisation he had accepted. 

It's like there’s some force tying him to the screen, he cannot look away. He cannot fight it. He cannot react in any other way than to gawk and silently cry when the pictures go to images of him asleep and his arm outstretched. Obvious cuts littering his skin and he is slammed with the force to feel that again, it's been creeping up over the past month and a bit and now it's nearly at it's breaking point. Then there’s one of him leaning over the toilet, obviously purging with another caption - he doesn't even get to read it before the next picture. The one of him when he was… he was… he can't even think about it but looks down to read the caption ‘fat bitch’. 

That does it for him. He snaps, throwing the laptop behind him on the bed. His hands flying to cover his face as huge sobs engulf him and oh god _oh god_ the need to end himself has never been this strong since coming to live with Liam. But he can't think of that. It’s like an out-of body experience and he pitifully sobs into his hands, shoulders shaking and letting out scream after scream pure distress. His arms wrap around himself and he bends over, trying to shake the oppressive urges fighting to take over him. And all he wants is to give into that desire. 

He stumbles, sobbing to the bathroom. He looks ahead into the mirror, slamming the door behind him so hard it locks. He doesn’t care though. He doesn't care because every urge he has felt in the past month hammer down on him, crippling him. Burning him with the relentless need. The toilet is open and he doesn't even properly think before his fingers are down his throat, triggering his gag reflex and bringing up the contents of his stomach. He keeps going, sinking to his knees as the words said to him, the words he read play over and over, over and over. When his stomach clenches painfully he just sobs as he stands, grabbing and putting the glass on the shelf under the faucet and downs maybe three of them. Enough so he feels nauseous and full again. He falls to his knees painfully. Purging until it’s just bile and water and blood coming up. Burning his throat before repeating countless times. He subconsciously scratches at his chest and torso though the material of his t-shirt. Then under the clothing, making his skin red raw and painful with the amount of pinching, clenching and abuse his own hands cause. He’s not thinking, as he pulls at his hair so hard he nearly rips some out, or when he fumbles around for a blade. Sobbing out when he can't find one. He rips off his t-shirt. Screaming at his reflection in the mirror and sobbing. His knees give out and he just sobs where he had fallen to his knees, hands covering his head and crying his heart out. A glint catches his eye from this level and he notices the stowed away blade - one he had completely forgotten about. It's like natural instinct, how he reaches out, using the pads of his fingers to slide it over the tiled floor. Fingering the metal. Admiring the beauty of it's terrible glare. 

He brings it to his arm. Every thought apart from the one to feel this give out when he slowly presses it. It stings at first, because he’s gone so long without it, but it's beautiful. His swipes get more and more violent and the thought of _ten only_ pops into his head.  

That’s when he pauses in his self-harm. When the image of Liam breaks through the ones on Nathans blog. He realises what he’s done. his breath coming out too ragged, too fast; too fast. Thoughts of how disappointed Liam would be; how disappointed the boys would be assault him. He despises himself there and then, and he can't bear the thought of existing long enough to see the disappointment, or the sadness on Liams face when he eventually has to come clean about what has happened in the past few minutes (or however long it has been). He can't breathe when he’s fully stopped. Not when all he wants is to give into this feeling. He feels control with the pain, the blissful agony of metal on skin, the desire of this is just too much. He goes at his arm again, switching them so he can feel it all over. And whats happened since he's come here anyway? The boys make him eat, won't let him cut, tell him he's so good even when he's not. No, he needs the discipline and he needs that control.

He feels like he’s in Nirvana. That Nathan can't hurt him if he hurts himself first. Not that Nathans here, but he’s _here._ And thanks to that blog, he will never leave. No, Zayn won’t stick around for that. This is the only way to get rid of Nathan forever.

He feels the weight of his phone in his back pocket and pulls it out. _It’s not fair._ He thinks. _It’s not fair to feel ok and then this happens._

Maybe it’s selfish on his part. But he promised Liam, he promised to tell him if things changed to not ok. And this is not well, this is finality. 

He breaks from cutting and stares at the contact picture of Liam on his phone. The image of a smiling, happy, bubbly Liam, from one of the walks they went on flashes from the screen. He’s still crying he realises when he feels the thick wetness fall into his lap. He feels _pathetic_ , so _stupid_ , a fucking _selfish, good for nothing idiot_. He clicks on ‘send message’ and types out with shaky fingers. “I’m sorry.” 

He sends, locks the phone and drops it onto the floor. Sagging where he sits and giving into the violent sobs that rock his body and shake his form to the very core. He hides his face in his hands as his phone rings and despises himself as he hears it go to voicemail. 

Everything in the world zones out when Zayn focuses his attention onto his arms again, slashing the skin apart and then ripping his jeans off so he’s only in his boxers and continues to give into the desire of ripping his pre-torn thighs apart.

He can't live like this anyone. One day good, the next three bad. He can't stand feeling so numb and tired and dead anymore. He’s forgotten what it feels like to be happy. All that racks him, minus the cries, is the feeling nostalgic blows and chains or rope wrapped too tight. Of restriction and humiliation and assault. No, he doesn't want this anymore. He’s free here, ironically. Ripping his skin and tearing the chub off his bones in a locked bathroom. He especially can’t live with that blog active, for the whole world to see. No. He will not do this any longer. He will not live feeling disgusted, violated and humiliated any longer. He drags himself to his feet. Searching with blurry vision though the cabinet for pills.  

The frustration reaches past peak when the cabinet does not produce more than a few paracetamol, bandaids and vitamins. 

_Insufficient. It won’t work._

He turns, still standing to his arms and cuts again, now breaking over old white scars - oh geez that feels so much worse… He does it over and over. His grip on the blade falters every now and again from the blood lubricating the metal, but he holds it tighter and tighter. As if it were his lifeline. 

With that word _lifeline_ he sees how fair it is, how ridiculously simple it is. One soul in exchange for a ticket out of here. 

(Even if his soul is a measly, pathetic, useless one). 

He also sees how fair it is - finally - something that’s fair, and efficient. 

He’s broken out of his trance by the phone ringing. It sounds louder now, urgent and he drops to his knees. A bloody mark is left when he swipes to answer the call and he shakily picks up. 

He tries to keep whatever cool he has and try not breakdown over the phone, but that works for all of 5 seconds until Liams voice sounds through the device. “Zayn? Zayn are you there?” 

He sobs into the phone, crying out “Liam!” His voice comes out croaky and broken from the acid that burns his Oesophagus - that’s purging for you.

“Baby, baby I need you to tell me what's going on.” Liam sounds panicky and a bit far off, like he’s on speakerphone. “I'm in the car on the way home, what happened gorgeous?” He tries to answer, he really does, but the lump in his throat makes him gag and he starts hyperventilating. “Honey, breathe. Remember what Isabelle said. It’s ok, it's all going to be ok-“ 

“ _NO IT’S NOT_.” He’s surprised by the absolute resolution in his broken, raised and defeated voice. He sobs, his knees on the floor with his ass to his heels. He rests his elbows onto his bare knees. shaking from his cries and the cold of the titles. He holds his phone against his forehead. Crying harder for shouting at Liam, hating himself more and more. 

“Beautiful, beautiful, please talk to me.” Liam sounds desperate over the phone. Loud enough that he can hear it even when it’s not to his ear.

He brings it back, coughing but managing to clear up a bit to say “I’m so sorry.”

“Honey, if you relapsed that ok, we can get through this.”

“It’s not just that, I-I did but it’s not just that.” His voice raises a few pitches by the end of his sentence, the cries sneaking up on him so he whines while he speaks.

_Pathetic, useless, good-for-noth-_

“What is it then darling?” 

He breathes in and out, letting the sound of Liams voice soothe him, as it always does. It never holds long though and he can feel just how unstable he is right now.

“He – he.” Those two words make him stutter again and gag. “He sent me a letter-“ He sobs again. “There was a link to a blog and it-“ he can’t finish the sentence, just cries even harder, curling into himself into a foetal position on the floor with his forearms on the floor in front of him and head to his knees. Liam doesn't respond. Probably thinking he’s working himself up to finish the story. But he can’t, he just gets right to the point. 

“I – I can’t do this anymore.” He admits with a whisper. His bottom lip trembling. 

“Zayn…” Liam sounds very scared “Zayn honey, what do you mean? I’m almost home now. Where’s Harry?”

He shakes his head, slow at first and then faster but then remembers he’s on the phone and Liam can't see him (Thank God). His self-hatred increases tenfold when he says “No. I’m sorry.” And drops phone onto the tiled floor. Just letting it slip from his grip and clatter. He can hear Liam on the other end, asking him to please pick up. But he’s out of it, letting the blade run over the recovered yet obviously mutilated skin, relishing in the peace and tranquility it provides until Liam hangs up. 

That makes him sob even more. Liam hung up. Liam’s done with him now, beyond pissed and he can envision what it’ll be like if he gets home before he’s done here. Oddly enough he can't picture Liams fists raining down on him (finally) but he envisions Nathan all over again. It makes him scream out a sob and just go deeper. Liam said he was ‘almost home’ - how close to home he doesn't know but he hopes to just bleed out and die before that happens. So attempts to let go of any thoughts of Liam, and the few that make him think he should just hold on - he tries but they don't ever really let go as he drags the blade over his skin some. There’s blood everywhere. It's enough that it's trailing down his legs and onto the floor - he thinks of running a hot bath, how that will maybe help make things quicker but he can't be bothered to move for it. Anyway, the number of cuts he’s made, it's probably pushing his ‘record’ from before when he was with Nathan and kept cutting until he passed out. He’s not there though. Slightly dizzy but not passing out yet. 

_Passing out and going far, far away from anyone or anything that could hurt him._

The front door downstairs is aggressively thumped at like someone is rummaging with the key hole and slams open, he can hear Harry shout “Zayn!” There’s a pause. “Zayn! Where are you?” He hears footsteps pound the stairs to the upstairs rooms and then muffled thumps lead to the door. Harry’s knocks on the bathroom door. “Zayn?”

He sobs in reply. _Dammit Harry._ He thinks, wanting to scream. _Leave me be to die in peace._

“Zayn,” The knocking increases. “I need you to open up. Liam called me.”

He’s too busy sobbing to reply. Gagging when he trails it lightly over the skin, not breaking it but enough to feel a small prick.

“Zayn please!” Harry near shouts, it makes Zayn flinch and let out a small whimper.

There’s rattling on the door knob and he curls up, when the knob resists he hears Harry slide to his knees on the other side, something thumps on the door - maybe his forehead. “Liam called Zayn he's on his way home, please please say something,”

He silences his cries and wipes his eyes on the back of his hand “…Harry?” His voice hurts - it’s scratchy and painful. 

“Yeah, it’s me.” He hears Harry breathe - sounding something akin to relief. “It’s me and Liam will be back soon.” There’s another pause. “I got held up in really bad traffic coming back from Cheshire, I’m so sorry I’m this late though, God, Zayn. Please can you open the door?” 

Harry sounds like he’s crying and Zayn hates himself. He swipes the blade over his arm in quick succession to punish himself for that. Once, twice, thrice, and again. 

“It’s on me, Harry. Don't say sorry.” He doesn't sound as collected as he wanted. He sounds like a mix of a whimpering mess and crying wreck. He probably looks it too. 

“No, no Zayn, Zayn please.”

“This is my choice Harry.” He says weakly - not even sure he was loud enough.

“No, Zayn no, please open the door. Please please please.”

There's a screech from outside like the squeal of tires on the road braking hard. Not 10 seconds later he hears Liam run in the front door downstairs, shouting out “Zayn!” The front door doesn't close, footsteps up the stairs sound again. “Zayn! Harry are you th-?” He stops in speech and Zayn assumes it’s because he’s found Harry against the door in there room.

“Is he?” He hears Liam asks but he doesn’t overhear a response before a sigh sounds.

The next bit is very soft, it's gentle. He hears the rustle of movement behind the door, crying silently until Liam calls his name. “Zayn?” It's part sing-song part questioning. “Zayn are you in there?” 

It sounds a bit of a stupid question and he feels even stupider than the question when he nods, before saying ‘yeah.” With a sniff.

“Zayn, beautiful, it’s going to be ok.”

At that he just cries again. He can't bring himself to cut anymore. He’s just exhausted by everything, by _life._

“Please beautiful, please open the door.” Liams voice is so nice, so good. He zones out of everything completely, and thoughts of _how stupid could you be?_ Start ruining him for real. _Liam’s never going to hurt you._

He cries “I’m sorry, I just – I didn’t-“ He holds the blade up to eye level, now having sat up against the wall. It falls from his fingers and clatters to the floor by his right side. Much like the phone did.

“I know, I know and that’s all right, everything’s going to be all right.” Liam interrupts.

He starts to hyperventilate but manages to use one of the breathing techniques Isabelle taught him and calms down some before he can admit “No it’s not.”

“Why not?”

The questions sparks more insecurity. His breathing becomes laboured again and hot tears just keep coming, too thick and too fast like the blood that oozes from his limbs. “Because it’s fucking up there!” He near shouts. “He fucking-“ Again, he can’t finish.

“Honey,” Liam’s voice sounds a bit broken, a little desperate, but a lot Liam. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I need you to tell me what has happened.”

Suddenly, a bang.

“Zee?” A voice he recognises as Louis’ comes from downstairs. “Zee!” 

Two pairs of feet thunder the staircase now and pants become apparent. He realises that all four of them are now outside while he just wants to die in peace. He sobs out and holds his head in his hands. 

“Zayn are you ok?”

He sobs harder and picks up the blade again, _No he is not ok._ Running it down to the side of his calves. Not deep, but enough to just break it and watch blood bead in a concentrated spot and then dribble down. There’s so much blood. So much. Nearly too much, but also not enough as he leisurely slides the blade across the skin of his thighs and arms again. Splitting it, slicing it, watching the rip; the tears oozing blood or beading before moving onto a new piece of skin. It’s silent on the other side of the door in the means of conversation with him. It's now focused on Liam filling in Louis, Harry and Niall on the phone call. 

(”Something about a letter Nathan sent him and a blog?- that’s all I really know.”)

That is, until a gasps sounds. “Erm… Liam, you may want to see this.” The Irish accent is thick and that’s precisely the moment that Zayn knows they’re looking at the blog. Tears well up even more and he swipes at his arms. One for each look from each boy for each picture and a few more for luck. He loses count and his sobs increase in volume.

“Oh, Zayn, it’s gonna be ok, we’re gonna get this taken down and it’s gonna be ok.” He hears Liam say on top of the other boys also commenting more on about how ‘it’s going to be ok’ and ‘we’ll take it down’ and so on.

“ _Don't you understand?_ ” He nearly shouts, choking yet again. “All his friends will have copies, and that guy from the hospital. N-Nath-“ he lets to an aggravated sigh. “He wasn’t at the hospital!” His voice raises at the end of the sentence again. 

“Then we’ll get them taken down too.” He hears Liam say, so adamant he near believes him. “We’ll get rid of everything. I promise.”

There’s a pregnant pause. He looks up from his wrecked body. His head falling back against the wall with a small thump as he takes a break from crying. 

“I just want to die.” He admits in a whisper. “I just… I can't do life anymore.” His shoulders sag from his haunched position. 

“I don’t want you to though, Zayn, I love you. We all do. I can’t deal with the idea of you not being here.” There’s a sniff from Liam after he says it. “I barely coped when you were with him and we didn't ever come for you and I’m so sorry.”

His whole body sags and the blade slips through his fingers again, exhaustion taking over him.

“I’m going to call Isabelle, ok?” Liam says. Zayn doesn't respond verbally. Just sniffs since his nose is blocked up. “Can you please open the door and we can fix you up and you can talk to her?”

“No,” The response is delayed by a second. 

“Please Zayn?” He hears Louis ask.

“No.” He’s not opening that door. He will patch himself up if he comes to it but he can't let them see him like this.

There’s a whisper from Louis “Do you have a spare key or something?”

“ _NO!_ ” His own shout makes him jump. “You… you can't come in here.” Tears fall again, now they’ve had a break.

“Why not?” Niall speaks to him directly, his voice without judgement or malice.

“Because.” It's blunt and not his best response. But it does the trick. 

“Hey Zayn, Isabelle’s here, how do you want to talk to her? If you open the door and let me slip the phone in I promise I won’t barge in.”

He shakes his head, “No.” That door will not open.

“Ok, I’ll put it on speakerphone then.”

“Zayn, are you there?” Isabelle’s muffled voice leaks through the wooden door.

He doesn’t answer immediately, just sniffs with a simple “yeah.”

“Ok, Liam, Harry, Louis, Niall. You are to stay quiet and not interrupt us.”

Just like that they begin to talk through the door, both questions and answers short or in his case one-worded. He tells her about the blog, what is _fucking up there_ and then she asks things like ‘is it when he did this?’

He cries and cuts and pinches his skin the whole way through. 

“I want to die, Isabelle,” He wipes a hand over his nose, sniffing while his tears seem to finally dry up. “I can’t do this anymore. I just – no, I’m gonna do it.” He's never sounded more resolute as brings the blade to eye level once more, cutting not even in a straight line anymore, all wonky and crossing over other pieces of ripped skin. His limbs are just so heavy and he aches all over.

“You mean commit suicide?” She asks.

He pauses and his head lols to the side, resting on his left shoulder - the one closest to the door. He’s exhausted and can feel the effect cutting is having now “Yeah. 

“Have you taken any pills?” She asks this time.

“No,” It sounds pitiful. “There weren’t enough.”

“What are you planning then?”

He pauses, wondering how he can say this with the boys listening. He can hear sniffling behind the door anyway and can imagine them in their respective positions. Liam will be leaning against the door holding the phone, Harry and Louis will be cuddling on the bed and Niall will be pacing around; sitting at one point but then need to move. He eventually admits. “To bleed out.”

Isabelle doesn't even hesitate. “Have you cut already?”

A sniff. “Yeah, yeah I have.” 

“A lot?”

“Erm.” He can't bring himself to let the boys know that bit yet. “Yeah… I’m, I’m not sure.”

“Do you remember what it feels like to paint Zayn?” She asks, her voice sounds a little magical. “To draw, sing?” She pauses again. “Do you remember playing piano and what it feels like when your hugged?” She sounds hopeful.

All he can feel is overwhelming tiredness, sadness and hope that it will be over soon. All he can feel is glorious physical pain and the lump in his throat and the weight on his brain, but none of the emotional pain he was in due to that blog. Cutting solved that, and it feels fantastic. “No, not really.” He openly sighs.

“In all honesty what do you feel right now?”

He leans back, stilling completely in all movement. “Tired.” He breathes. “Sad but calm, and it hurts, but it’s good. It’s a bit dizzying, but I like it and it helps.” His voice drifts. 

“How does it help?" 

His voice raises in pitch as he responds with “It’s off your head and your chest. It’s off your heart and you can breathe. But you also can't and it’s rather weightless this time.” He blinks lowly. The conversation is draining him, he doesn't want to fall off his high, weightless, peaceful perch. 

“What are you thinking about?”

“How peaceful it all is.” 

“In your head?” Her voice is light.

“Yeah.”

“Do you remember when we talked about beating yourself up? When we talked about what you felt when you were with him compared to now?”

He hums a response. 

“How do you feel towards Liam?” She asks before tacking on. “How do you feel with the boys and Liam, especially now it’s after the relationship with Nathan? But particularly Liam?”

He forgets Liam is on the other side of the door. “I really think I love him.”

“What do you think he feels about you?”

He scoffs, “I dunno.”

“He loves you.” She says. 

He lets out a bitter laugh. “He can’t.”

“Why not?”

“No one should love me.” Tears fall again at the end of the sentence. “No one could love me after what I’ve done.”

“You’ve done?” Isabelle asks. He doesn't offer a response though, just picks up the blade as his… _mistake_ , the utter, final and no-coming-back-from _failure_ plagues him. 

They carry on like that, Isabelle tries to convince him of a number of things. But he’s had it, he doesn't know what to think any more. That is until Isabelle asks him; “Has it occurred to you that this has nothing to do with how Liam has treated you? That Liam and the boys have proved they will never hurt you or hate you and unflinchingly love you instead? That it's all to do with Nathan and how his influence has manifested so deep it’s driven you to not only an eating disorder but also depression so severe you are attempting suicide?” There is no judgement or hate in her words. “Liam has done everything in his power to help you and that it’s all Nathans - a man who cannot touch you anymore - doing?”

The blade he holds stills in his hands. He had stopped crying but now it slams him again and again with this force he has never quite felt before. He sobs and curls up into a ball, rocking himself back and forth, because _he gets that, that makes sense._ It crashes on him and the ugly sobs take forever to quieten down. When they do Liam is on the other side of the door. 

“Zayn it’s ok, we’ll make it ok I promise. I don’t want you to hurt anymore and I wont ever hurt you, none of the boys or I would dream of hurting you.” 

Zayn doesn’t say anything - can’t say anything. He keeps on heaving in his wretched sobs, his shoulder shaking with a force he can’t stop and it’s scaring him. He chokes out a final sobs. “I-I d-don’t wa-wa-nt yo-u t-to h-hate m-me.” He admits to Liam. “I-I- I don't-t wa-want you-u t-to lea-ve m-me b-b-b-eca-ause y-you can ma-make it kind-of o-ok bu-t I-I al-ways fuc-k i-it up an-and ev-everyth-ing's m-my fa-fault.”

“No no Zayn! That’s not the case, that’s never the case! I could never hate you. You don't fuck things up, ever, nothings your fault, you’re amazing Zayn, you’re so incredible,” Zayn starts to cry again. “Please don't ever think you fuck things up.”

He quietens his sobs. Pausing before speaking; “I-I d-don't wa-nt y-you to s-see me like the-is.”

“Why Zayn?" 

“B-because the-there’s blo-od, and I-I don't want y-you to hate me o-or be dis-dis-app-p-oint-t-ed b-because the-there’s so-o m-much Liam.” He cries quietly.

“Zayn that’s all the more reason to let me in. I will never hate you or be disappointed beautiful, I promise. I swear on my life.” Liams voice trembles but remains adamant and determined.

He sobs, at first curling into his knees but then his head falls back against the wall. “Ok then.” He sobs. Wiping his face with the back of his hand. “Ok.”

He hears a collective sigh. “Thank you Zayn, thank you so much.” 

He goes to stand, drag himself up. But the second he lifts himself the dizziness overwhelms him and he gasps, losing his balance and falling back to the floor.  His bones ache and his vision swims. Everything sways as he tries to push himself up again with no success. 

“ _Liam._ ” He gasps.

“Yeah?” He answers, equally quiet.

“Ev-every-th-thing’s dizzy.” He admits. “I'm not sur-it just aches so m-much.” He’s crying softly by the time he finishes. “I'm-m sorry.”

“Zayn, Zayn, come on you can fight this. You can do it and the second it’s open you can fall into me and this will all be over with. But I really need you to open the door now Zayn, please.”

He cries some more, hating every fibre of his being. "I-I can't."

"Yes, Zayn, yes you can." Liam whispers through the door. "C'mon beautiful you've got this, you've always got this." 

He takes a few deep breaths through his tears, pushing himself up as swiftly as he can and grasping the handle to keep balance. Even though he’s only on his knees. He grips so hard his arm convulses, shaking so much the door shudders. His vision blurs a bit while he fumbles with the-the- the _thingy_. 

Finally, a click sounds and immediately the door is pushed open so it’s just ajar. It gives him time to fall back and crawl: Push himself away from the door to where he had been and curl up into a ball so they can’t see the major cuts immediately. His head goes between his knees and he starts sobbing again.

“Oh, my…” He hears one of them - Louis say. There’s an immediate rush to one side of the bathroom and another to different corner.  

“Hey Isabelle, Mark’s a surgeon right?” Harry asks above him and he assumes it’s him holding the phone now as when he peeks he sees Liams hands cover his knees, soft hushes coaxing him out of his position. “Yeah, it looks bad. Yeah… Really bad… Please do.” The phone clicks to hang up. “Isabelle and Mark are on their way.”

Zayn looks up to Liam through his eyelashes and the brunettes softly slips his hand to just under his chin and gently lifts it up. He can see in his peripheral vision small pools of blood around him, from him, he sniffs and tears up under Liams gaze.

“Shush, shush, honey, it’s ok now. It’s going to be ok.”

Zayn nods, clamping his eyes shut when hot tears squeeze through and another sob escapes him.

“Here, Zayn baby,” Liam coaxes again, pulling at his knees that until now Zayn had been purposely holding close. While at first he resists he lets Liam pull his legs away from his body and the dam is broken.

“Oh shit.” He hears Niall say as he watches him rip his t-shirt over his head before Louis can return with the bandages and Harry can press the towels he has to the sliced limbs. Pressing it down to his thigh with he response to a whimpering hiss. 

Liam looks him directly in the eyes, cupping his face as the other boys apply pressure to his hacked limbs. Staring at how dead Zayns eyes are, how the light is completely gone with tears welling up.

Zayn form begins to shake. “I’m -I’m sor-“ Liam presses a finger gently to his lips.

“It’s ok Zayn, beautiful, I promise… We’re going to make it ok.” The tears are beginning to hurt his raw eyes and his body shakes. Liam lets go of his face with one of his hands and uses that hand instead to hold his left one. Holding it tightly while shushing him, they’re so close their foreheads are touching. “Squeeze my hand gorgeous, squeeze everything out.” Kisses are pressed to his forehead and nose and cheeks and eyelids. He squeezes with everything he has, so tight that his arm shakes. He can feel tightening around his thighs and his right calf. As well as chatter between Niall, Harry and Louis, like they’re co-operating in holding his body together while Liam works to keep his mind, his sanity in one piece. 

It feels like hours before anything else happens. It comes in the form of the doorbell ringing. 

“I’ll get it,” he hears Niall say, springing up from wherever he is and dashing downstairs. When he returns he can sense more than see that it’s Isabelle and Mark. He hides his face further in Liams neck in shame. 

“Zayn?” Isabelle asks for his attention but he just wants to cry, he peeks over Liams shoulder through heavy lidded and red-rimmed eyes at her. He can hear Mark off to his right now and feebly peeks that way too, watching as his therapists spouse focuses on his body and unroll some bag with several thousand bandages, creams, pieces of gauze and whatever else in in that bag before he returns to Liams shoulder. He senses Isabelle moves further down his body to his leg and starts talking to the boys, getting their account before helping them unwrap the towel.

“Hey Zayn, do you remember me? I’m Mark.” He hears Mark say. He nods into Liam shoulder. “Ok great, I’m going to first wipe down your wounds and then I need to put anti-septic on them, it’s going to sting a lot because your wounds are deep and you have a lot. Then we can start bandaging them, alright?” He nods again, not looking away from where he’s buried himself in Liams neck and shoulder. 

He can feel them gently pull away the make-shift bandages the boys put in place and then wipe away the blood on his thighs, he wants to cry more because he feels so exposed, so naked and humiliated and stupid and he hurts. It's the opposite of what he wanted to happen. He wants to be dead.

Something is sprayed on his legs and he screams. Oh God it burns, it burns so bad. He kicks out but more than one person holds onto his leg and it's sprayed all over his thigh. He feels like that part of him is being burned right now and it takes every ounce of power to not relish in the feeling. 

“It’s ok Zayn, it’s going to be all ok.” Liam shushes. “It’s ok. I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” Liam coos as he sobs and whimpers into his chest. Now squeezing his hand so tight it must look like he’s trying to break his hand. “I’ve got you and I’m not letting go. You’re safe now gorgeous and it’s going to be ok.” 

His breathing gets laboured the more Liams speaks and the more of whatever that is is sprayed on his thighs. “Breathe Zayn, baby, breathe. In and out like Isabelle showed you, please honey breathe.”

He can hear Mark in the background commenting, “I know it hurts but I’ve got to do this. Keep with us.” 

His body shakes harder when they do his other thigh. But then there’s a break where they lay down bits of cool creamy gauze and it eases the flames that lick at his thighs. He screws his eyes shut with a tortured whimper and focuses on his breathing rather than the pressing of fabrics to his torn skin. More mutterings of ‘staunch the flow’ and ‘keep him awake’ surround him.

He feels kisses peppering all over his face, and someone brushing his hair with their fingers and others rubbing his back. They move on and do his calves but they don’t hurt as much even though he whimpers through it and clutches closer into Liam, as if he were trying to physically mould himself to him. Continuous soothing words and ‘shush, shush shush,’ are said and he can do this, he can. 

A hand gently wraps around his wrist and tugs, coaxing it away from him. He whimpers because now he knows what’s coming it’s so much worse and he muffles his scream by biting into his arm.

“Babe, babe no, please, I don't want you to have to hurt anymore.” Liam says as he uses a hand to cover the area he could bite when they do the other arm. This time he screws his eyes shut - he doesn't want to see it coming and clamps his mouth shut so he won't make too much sound. When it’s sprayed his body jerks instinctively, kneeing Harry in the thigh.

“S-sorry, so-sorry.”

“It’s alright Zayn, just stay with us please. We love you, it’ll all be ok.”

“What's his blood type?” Mark asks Liam.

“Err, B.”

“Positive or negative?”

“I'm not sure.” He sighs, sounding and looking ashamed of himself. 

“Right is anyone O negative?”

“I am!” Louis perks up behind.

“I need you here, he’s lost too much blood and needs some now.” Mark hasn't even finished his sentence before Louis has slid down to sit next to Zayn on the floor and exposing his right wrist, ready for the direct transfusion. 

“Ok, Zayn, I'm going to put a tube into your elbow. It’ll pinch but it’ll go almost immediately and will just go numb.”

He’s too drained to respond as Mark lifts his limp hand and gets Louis to hold it as he injects the thickest vein inside his left arm. He’s too numb, too weak and too tired to really respond properly so he just winces. 

“Mark, listen.” He hears Louis say. His head has rolled to the left on Liams collarbone so he can't watch when Louis says; “He needs blood, you know that. I will recover from blood loss but he won’t so let him take every drop. I swear, even if I pass out, do it until he gets what he needs and then some more.”

“I appreciate the desperation and gravy of this situation but I will need to stop if you pass out. Zayn will be fine with as much blood as possible but not if the person giving it to him goes into cardiac arrest or dies.” Mark responds, not looking at either of them in favour of his work 

(Death is pretty immanent on his mind right now anyway and he realises what an amazing person Lou is and how he doesn't deserve that).

Liam hasn't stopped once muttering things into his ear, sweet nothings and singing him the songs they dance to or have learn to play on the piano. He struggles but he apologises to Liam "I-m-m so-ry I dis-sap-oint-ted yo-u a-and broke yo-ur t-trust, I-I di-dint want t-to b-but I dont wan-t t-to be here a-anymore." He chokes on his own spit.

"No, no beautiful." Liam keeps kissing him and running hands through his hair. "You're not a disappointment, not at all, you haven't broken my trust and you know why? Because you picked up the phone, you picked up gorgeous and you opened the door, you haven't broken my trust, you're just, fragile, yeah? Especially today, and what happened should-ht've but it's over now, you're ok and we'll work through it but im not disappointed in you now, not ever."

His eyes begin to get heavy and he shuts them to rest for a bit. “Zayn you must stay awake.” Marks voice is loud and clear as he taps his cheek a few times, stirring him and forcing him to lift his heavy eyelids and look blearily at him. “I will be able to stitch you back up and get you to be stable without having to make you go to the hospital. Isabelle told me about how much you hate it in there and how that would be detrimental to your mental condition. But if you fall asleep we will need to take you to one immediately. So stay with us here, you can do it.”

Zayns eyes, which had just been half shut and heavy lidded bulge open at that. The incentive to stay awake and fear of a hospital snap him into a form of consciousness.

He shifts a bit in his position and feels the gauze sticking to his body, stuck due to antiseptic and blood. He watches as Mark pulls out a roll of medical tape and begins to lay it over the gauze on his things and arms. Pressing them to help them stick and firm their hold. 

“Right,” Mark dresses Liam and the others. “It's patchwork at the moment, I can’t properly do everything in here. We’ll need to get him to the bedroom back there.” Marks voice holds soft authority. 

“Alright,” Liam shifts behind him, pushing him forward gently into a full sitting position so he can go up onto the balls of his feet.

“Ready?” Mark asks, Isabelle and each boy excluding Louis help lift him. It’s awkward and hurts. He lets out a pitiful sob but Liam’s there to kiss away his tears and around his face, encouraging him that “We’re almost there baby, almost there.”

They lay him down above the covers on the left hand side of the bed. And everyone retreats from his side to make space for Mark. Niall fetches Louis a chair and sets it beside the bed so Louis can sit while blood is being pumped out of his veins. Harry kneels at the end of the bed and rests his arms there. Liam crawls around so he’s out of the way and then to the right hand side of the bed so he can climb over and sit cross-legged above Zayn. With gentle fingers Liam picks up his head and shuffles forward so he can set it down in his lap. Holding his face with reverence and softly thumbing the skin. Leaning over to kiss wherever he could to distract him from when Mark first starts removing pieces of bloody gauze and stitching the deeper cuts. It’s involuntary, the jerks and little cries of “ow ow ow,” that fall from his lips with a whimper and high-pitched whine. Everybody is silent while they watch Mark work. All except for him and Liam, who keeps talking to him. Reminding him how _it’ll all be ok_ and that _it’s nearly over_ and _how good he’s going to be treated from now on_. Niall moves over and becomes Marks assistant. Handing him whatever things he needs and supporting wherever area of Zayns body he’s stitching. 

All Zayn can think of, apart from the pain is how awkward he feels and how much he hates himself. He wishes he could’ve gone deeper, somewhere where he could bleed out quicker. Let himself go before even Harry or Liam arrived. Never picked up the fucking phone. He wishes he’d slit his throat or that there had been enough pills. But no, he hadn’t, and now, now he was paying that price. He thought he had run out of tears but his body and mind betray him when he starts to cry again. He cries so much he literally has no energy left. Everything feels like utter shit - he's so far gone; drained and worn, weary even. That he just wants to sleep and never wake up- why couldn't they just let him? They knew how shit everything was for him, and had yet to learn how much he just isn’t worth it. 

 _Why? Why? Why?_ Throbs his brain as his eyes quietly flood. 

When Mark eventually finishes working he looks mummified. There are so many bandages - some thicker than others depending on location - his wrists for example. The tight and secure material wraps all the way up from his forearms from his wrist to his elbow and on his left arm extending just above his elbow. Both his thighs from just above the bottom of his boxers to top of his knees. There are others wrapped around the top of his right calf and ankle area of his left leg. 

“There we go. All done.” Mark announces. He looks down to his hand when it's squeezed. “Well done.” He lets go when he turns his attention to Louis, who’s paling quite a bit now. Zayn doesn't know how much of the blood that’s now in his body is actually Louis’ rather than his. 

He doesn’t move, instead just lays there listening to the quiet cries of people around the room, he looks down his body to the foot of the bed where Harry is - his eyes red rimmed and puffy, his face clothed up. 

“We love you so much, Zayn, please don’t try leave us again.” Niall says off to his right, his face like all of the others is stained with tears and Zayn can only think how _thats his fault_ and that  _this is on him_. Now moved to sit next to him on the bed. Liam keeps thumbing his cheeks and holding him, singing under his breath softly when Mark returns with some painkillers and other medicines that he gets Zayn to have along with some food and water he’s rummaged from the kitchen. He’s too weak to protest so he just accepts it and eats the food and drinks the water.

“You did great Zayn, you’re very brave. Well done.” Mark says before taking his leave and packing up his equipment. As he does Zayn sobs more, ugly cries screwing up his face because _he's not brave in any capacity_ and  _why would you lie about that._ Liam leans over him and pecks at his face, covering him so he can only see Liam and he wish he could stop crying but he just _can't_. Marks leaves the transfusion until last. Taking it first out of Louis’ arm and then out of his. Throwing the used bits in a plastic bag for disposal. Louis is also told to eat and he does. Niall, in the meantime gets up and grabs a fresh set of sleepwear from the guest room and slips the pyjama bottoms on with the help of Harry before the two of them put on the shirt with the help of Liam partially sitting him up.

After that, Isabelle comes up to him and asks if he wants to talk about it but he doesn't so he shakes his head. Sniffing. She pushes on, talking to him gently, coaxing what happened out of him but he can't bring himself to say it so he just cries. He breaks down into wretched sobs and chokes on how much he hates himself. It gets to the point where they have to sit him up or else he'll choke, a position he very much prefers because Liam spoons him and he hates himself for that, but he doesn't know why. Liam begins to rock him side to side, hushing him and singing. Gently calming him down as he always does. Normally he can feel the little vibrations from Liams body as he hums and sings and it's so nice and he holds him and that just makes him feel safe and warm. But he doesn't feel that right now. No, he wants to be gone. He wants to feel nothing and so the comfort from Liam disappears.

He feels pain and heaviness in his chest and numbness in his head. He feels like his limbs have been injected with lead and his heart is nothing but sludge and a lump of rock. The boys are all around him, far enough so he has space to breathe but close enough that he’s shielded. Doing their best to soothe him but it doesn't work. He just cries for his sorrows - not that he thinks he has any to cry about and when he tries to curl up winces because it tugs on the stitches. After the worst is over with and he’s just weary and tired of everything he just lays back against Liam, being unresponsive as the people around him try to stir him and get him to talk to them. But he doesn't want to talk to them so he zones out and ignores them, which makes him cry a little more because _thats just what a worthless piece of shit does_ and _they will now send you away, that blog shows them everything and who wants to be around that?_ He looks through a filtered daze. Liam at some point leans back so Zayn is lying in the V of his legs and has him arms wrapped around him tight. There’s movement above him as they all get on with their business. He doesn't realise how cold he feels until the duvet is tucked in around him. Niall and Harry working together while Louis grabs his right hand which are above the covers. He feels Liam almost massage him while he cuddles him, and when his eyes are beginning to droop again, now that he's beyond exhausted Liam kisses him all over his head and what areas of his face he can reach. Zayn won't let himself enjoy it, he doesn’t deserve to. 

There’s no stopping him when Liam presses a kiss to his temple and says quietly “sleep now you,”

However, just before he drops off he hears a “we love you, I love you, I'm sorry I didn't tell you how much you mean to me this morning. We’ll be here for you no matter what.”

 

———— 

 

**L I A M**

 

“Thank you so much Mark.” He says with a quiet sob when Zayn has been asleep for a little while. “You saved his life, I don't think he would've made it to the hospital otherwise.” 

“It’s a pleasure.” Mark responds. “He’s a really lovely chap.”

Liam nods as an agreement, a lovely, beautiful, struggling, broken, chap.

“He’ll have a fever by morning. His body’s gone through a massive shock and that’s the normal reaction.” Mark adds, pressing his fingers to Zayns forehead. He hums in disapproval under his breath before turning to Liam “Do you have a thermometer? Left ours in the rush.” 

“Yeah there might be one in the cupboard in there.” As soon as Liam has said that Mark takes his leave for the bathroom. Otherwise, no one has moved a muscle. Still in too much shock after what has happened today. 

“I got stuck in traffic on the way back from Cheshire.” Harry mumbles in a quiet voice. “I was on my way, I promise, and if I’d been here I wouldn’t have let him look at whatever that was.”

“Of course you wouldn't have, and don't do that Haz. Don't blame yourself. You couldn’t’ve known.” Liam responds. “It’s not your fault.”

"Just- if i'd been two minutes earlier, two minutes he would'nt've been in the bathroom." His eyes and nose are bright red.

"Haz, stop."

“I feel like it is.”

“That’s common.” Isabelle pipes up from her place on the bed. “It’s completely natural for all of you to blame yourselves for this but the matter of fact is that none of you could’ve known.” She lifts her head up to address all of them. “When that initial period of guilt passes by you’ll all feel ok. We can talk about ‘what if’ scenarios forever and it will not change the fact that Zayn attempted suicide today. It is a a lot more beneficial for all parties if you just accept what happened and move on from it. You weren't here early enough to prevent it that's it, nothing can change what has happened and chances are it would've just happened another way. Zayn is alive and he’ll be ok, that is the bottom line we need to take away from this.”

“What do you think Zayn will take away from this?” Liam asks quietly. Harry moves over to Louis and cuddles him, the latter very tired and worn out but too shocked to rest. Isabelle looks in his direction to face him just as Mark walks back in the room.

“I can't and won’t discuss details but at first he will probably be upset that he’s still alive. I mean, the whole point of suicide is to kill yourself and he admitted he didn't want to live anymore, he also failed in that and will probably believe he is a failure or an idiot for not doing something.” He winced at that, partly because he knows it to be true. “I think at first there will be an initial period when Zayn either becomes completely unresponsive and shy or will be irritable and bipolar. That being, changing from being upset to angry about the fact he’s still alive. I haven’t seen the cause of what triggered this but if i do I may be able to tell a bit more. All that I know for certain is that he will be very fragile mentally, very delicate and be self-loathing. 

“Well we have reason to believe it’s this. Actually, we know it is.” Niall says, having moved during their conversation to get the laptop that had been put on the desk earlier. He opens up the lid and types in the password, scrolling up to the top of the blog, wincing as he does and hands it to her alone with the physical note in the envelope. 

Mark, having paused to listen to their conversation now moves that Isabelle is looking through the blog and finishes setting up the thermometer. The type he has is an older children's one, the type that goes in your ear. When Ruth was around with her kids last year for a fortnight-long stay and Liam wanted to be prepared for anything. He helps Mark by tilting Zayns head to the side as he holds the thermometer tight and pushes it into Zayns ear. 

"I nearly told him I loved him this morning." Liam whispers. "I wish I had."

"Hey," Louis smacks his arm. "None of that you hypocrite." Louis' pale and because he's pale his red eyes stand out even more. "You dont need to tell him you love him yet, one day he'll know it, you just told Harry to shut up about what ifs, dont you start now."

He holds Zayns head in place while Louis scolds him until there's a small sharp beep to signal it’s done and Mark removes it to see the recorded temperature. He frowns at the reading. “Hmm, definitely the beginning of a fever.”

“How bad will it be?” He asks, concerned about the man laying in his arms.

“I can't honestly tell you, we’ll just have to find out.”

“Well, on the bright side,” Isabelle perks up, “I definitely know this is what triggered his attempt. This also provides more evidence should Zayn wish to charge Nathan with what he’s been through.” Her eyes don't leave the screen as she continues to scroll. “I mean this is just sickening.”

“He has nightmares a lot you know.”

“Yes I do, we briefly discussed them.”

Niall moves from where he's been standing over Isabelle’s shoulder. “I can't look at it anymore,” He croaks as he sits down. “And Zayn lived that,”

No one says anything in response. 

“How will we get that-that blog taken down?” He asks.

“Well, we need to talk to Harriet and then we can work from there, this is absolutely do-able, it seems that some people have flagged this account and the pictures and there aren't many followers so it should disappear easily enough. The concern I have is that Nathan was not at the hospital, an acquaintance of his was, meaning that friends of his are likely to have copied.”

“Zayn did say about that when we tried to reason with him.” Louis says. “I just, I just wish we could do more.” He holds his head in his hands.

“Hey,” Isabelle says uncharacteristically harsh, “You lot _are_ doing more. You 4 are easily the best support system for any patient I’ve ever encountered ever. Yes, it is possible to do more but you can't honestly say you haven’t done enough.”

Louis, for once in his life, looks stunned. He’s actually speechless and Liam wishes he could either make a joke about it or take a picture, but now is not the time.

“When Zayn wakes up, yes, it is going to be very hard for him to cope and it will take a long time for him to recover but as long as you all keep up with what you’re doing there is no doubt in my mind that he will move on from not only today but with life and away from suffering.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gods sake guys, and I hope this never happens, but if it does and someone you know attempts call a fucking ambulance, and if not that then poison control at the very least. 
> 
> This is fiction, do not, under any circumstances, carry out the events of this chapter as an alternative. No matter how much they may hate or be scared of hospitals get them to one.
> 
> I dont know when ill be able to update, I have my final three terms of school starting in two weeks so im scared shitless about that and i haven't written up the chap yet. I felt bad about not posting though. Please comment and kudos!


	22. Fragile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those that decided to skip the previous chapter:
> 
> Liam has to leave for work and Harry hasn't arrived yet so Liam has to leave Zayn home alone.  
> Nathan sends Zayn a letter in the mail and inside it was a link to a blog, this blog contained images and videos of Zayn and he had a breakdown and attempted suicide.  
> He locks himself in the bathroom and begins cutting with a forgotten stowed away blade, he texts Liam he's sorry and in return Liam calls and Zayn answers.  
> The boys, Isabelle and Mark save him and bandage him up, Louis gives blood to save Zayns life otherwise he'd have to go to hospital.

Later on that day, when the sun is beginning to go down and the reality of that mornings events truly sink in and everybody has had a breakdown at one point or another which has caused them to leave the room. Liam stays steadfast where he is and refuses to leave Zayns side or not provide comfort at any point, always mushing his hair or dabbing his forehead or stroking his skin some way or another. It took two hours for Zayn to settle after he breakdown into sobs and another of dozing before he finally succumbed to exhaustion and fell asleep. Liam could see where physically painful it had been because he was choking and couldn't curl up, not to mention Zayns throat must've been on fire due to the acidity. It's late afternoon and the sun is setting when Mark presses his fingers to Zayns neck to feel his pulse as he has done twice so far every hour, changing the bandages over every other time he checks the pulse so as to avoid infection and maintain how the cuts are doing. He announces that Zayns resting heart rate is stable but fast and weak and that he is not to get up on his own under any circumstances, that he's only allowed up to go to the bathroom and that he will need help with that anyway. Mark has to leave later on in the evening because he's going on call and Isabelle left a few hours back to relieve their last second babysitter (the neighbour) of their children but not before telling them to keep her updated and organising an appointment for the next day.

Liam is gently dabbing a cool flannel to Zayns forehead in the hopes that it will help him be a bit more comfortable when Mark briefs him and the boys on what to do and not to do.

"As I've said, he's on strict bedrest and must have someone with him at all times, his bandages must be changed every few hours and you need to check his pulse at least twice every hour, his current resting heart rate is 198 which is actually his maximum heart rate for a man his age, due to Zayns current health status and recent events that heart rate is not only abnormal but dangerous, with hope it will go down in a few hours steadily but if it gets any faster or you hear him wheeze you need to call an ambulance because he might go into cardiac arrest. Give him paracetamol when he wakes up and ensure he drinks lots of water and get him to eat whatever you can.

If he starts getting abdominal pains, vomits or his heart rate goes any faster you need to call an ambulance because those are symptoms of hypovolemic shock and he may die. Louis' blood last night may have just saved his life." Marks voice is authoritative and dominant in the room over Zayns breathing. "Do let me know if anything happens and please don't mention this to anyone outside of this room as i'm not actually allowed to do any of this out of the hospital."

Everyone in the room nods, "I guarantee none of us will, I mean, you saved Zee's life, I - We are so grateful to you," Harry hasn't stopped crying but truth be told none of them really have. "Thank you so much for everything you've done for us." He hugs Mark when he's finished packing. Mark only sales and nods his head before Niall escorts himself out, Louis also banned from walking around.

Liam nods. Honestly he's still in shock at whats happened in the last 10 hours, this is all a unsettling reality check. "I will do." He whispers to no one, bending over and kissing Zayns forehead, "I'll keep you safe." He whispers to the unconscious boy.

 

-

 

Zayn wakes up the next morning with a pounding headache and ache in his bones. It takes a moment or two to gain his bearings and blink the fog in his eyes away. It steadily trickles back into his mind why his limbs feel like they're on fire and he can't move, why his chest and lungs don't quite seem to expand properly or why his skin burns yet theres a cold sweat causing what skin isn't bandaged to shine. 

He sniffs and cracks his neck, unaware of Liam above him until a small whisper of "Good morning beautiful," He looks up to meet his gaze but his eyes are bleary and he can't bring himself to look for more than a second, he feels utterly humiliated and miserable. Liam sits him up slowly, keeping his back pressed to his chest and holding up a glass of water and pressing it to his lips, wordlessly ushering him to sip out of it.

After he's drunk a quarter of the glass Liam sets it down on the bedside table and replaces it with a plate of cut fruit. "Here gorgeous, you need to eat as much as you can."

Zayn feels too dizzy and weak to find it in himself to care about anything, his head and body hurts so much and his pale clammy skin feels like it's burning. He can't move so Liam hand feeds him the apple slices as silent tears roll down his cheeks. Once he's managed to eat a bit Liam sets the plate down beside them and reaches for the bedside again, this time producing the glass and a few pills. "Here baby," Liam whispers into his ear and Zayn realises that the room is dimly lit which is so kind on his head and eyes. Liam pushes his hair and kisses his cheek. "These are for your head and fever." Zayn doesn't protest, swallowing them easily with Liams help. Liam then reaches back and retrieves a bottle of liquid medicine and a spoon, feeding him the tablespoon of the unknown liquid with a small encouragement of "good boy," and a kiss to his cheek.

Zayn doesn't answer, Liam shuffles them up the bed and places him somewhere between sitting up and lying down. The boys who he hadn't noticed were even in the room shuffle around. Niall tucks the duvet that had fallen when they sat up around them up to his shoulders. His dazed and fever glossed eyes don't look particularly emotive right now and he's so embarrassed and frustrated with himself and the whole situation that he can't even murmur a 'thank you'. He thinks about how he's pathetic, how he can't do one thing right even when it's something he's had on his mind a while. He sniffs because his nose is runny and didn't notice he was shivering until Niall was finished with tucking them in, pushing the cover around his body all the way to his feet. 

He feels something cool and so good pressed to his forehead and looking up it's Liam again with a cool flannel, he hadn't noticed that every muscle was tense and stiff until he melts in Liams arms. Liam sings under his breath and the hum of his body presses into his, Liam keeps mushing his hair up and for a vain second he thinks of how much it'll be in disarray and how terrible he looks.

"Shut your eyes darling." He hears Liam above him, Harry had moved to sit beside them and is rubbing his arm through the covers, there's splashing of water from what he assumes is a bowl on the beside table and a few seconds after he's shut his eyes the cool flannel is draped over his eyes. He whimpers at first, because it's cold and that hurts a bit but within a few seconds it, along with the physical contact and Liam beneath him eases the thudding in his mind. He lets out a shuddery sigh and feels another person sit next to his body on the other side of the bed. The touches at first feel reassuring but after a few minutes and Liam has lifted off the flannel to re-wet it he feels embarrassed and like a failure, an idiot and he can't stop sniffing or crying and it makes it so much worse. A rather unhappy sound escapes him when he coughs and his throat begins to burn all over again, Liam sits him up and holds tissues in front of him, tissues that end up specked with blood from how raw and terrible his throat currently is. He sees Nialls eyes burn with worry and he can't describe how terrible he feels, how much of a failure, how stupid he is. He can't help but wish he'd been successful with yesterday, but no, he wasn't and he hates himself for it.

Liam holds a new tissue to his nose and instructs him to blow into it, try clear his nose a bit. He feels utterly exposed, like a paraded animal, humiliated and disgusting, but he's so weak and feels sick and dizzy and all kinds of terrible that he takes what Liam offers him. He does as he's told and it does help a bit to clear his airways, meanwhile Harry dabs the cool cloth to his forehead and then face, wiping the drool from under his lips away after his coughing fit. Louis holds the glass of water to his lips again and he drinks from it, the cool liquid soothing the burn a little, Niall meanwhile stands up and runs off. Zayn can't blame him, he's disgusted with himself, he would run too, but Niall returns with a glass of milk and a straw, holding that to his lips, coaxing him to drink it and it does wonders to neutralise the acidity in his oesophagus. He cries again because he doesn't deserve this, why should they comfort a failure like him? Why should they look after him like this when he's done nothing to earn it?

He can't stand himself and the exhaustion is too much, the dizziness is not helped by the constant laying down and sitting up. His eyes roll into the back of his head and if it weren't for Liam behind him he would've collapsed. His skin has a thin layer of cold sweat coating it which means his skin is slippery when the boys also attempt to stabilise him.

When the world stops spinning he realises that the boys are working together to slowly lay him back down as they were before the coughing fit. He can feel the strength of Liams abdominals working beneath him, the power in them that are working to hold the two of them up and if he wasn't such a screwed up mess maybe he'd have a set of abs like Liam. 

They settle down against the pillows, small murmurs and encouragements, sweet nothings come from everyone in the room and Zayn wishes he could fight it.

"Rest baby, you need it." Liam kisses his forehead and while he doesnt really process what Liam says he does it eventually, succumbing to exhaustion for a restless and fitful sleep.

  

-

 

 

Since Zayn was in no shape to move Isabelle came to them to do their sessions, while it would've been better to separate him from the room for psychological determination on what areas were 'safe' and what were 'not safe' it was too painful for Zayn to move or be moved. 

Liam leaves them be, the first time Zayns been out of his sight since the attempt and he can't help but gnaw down on his fingertips in nervousness. He retreats into the kitchen and begins a tea for them all - They all made camp throughout the house, Harry and Louis taking Zayns room and Niall claiming the couch downstairs. All had rung in and explained the situation, telling their boss there was no way they could come into work and would do it all form home. Liam was 95% sure they may all get fired but somehow they made it work. Harry practically ploughed in, not looking up from his computer for the whole day he was so deep in concentration, Louis had to get him to eat while he was working otherwise he wouldn't have. (Liam was not surprised to hear that Harry finished all his work for the week bar a few things that needed to be hand done by four o'clock that afternoon.) 

 

\--

 

 _“I just don't want me to be alive anymore.” Zayn sniffs, trying his very hardest not to break down again like he did after his attempt._ _“Why would you save me like that I wanted to go, please just let me go.” He brings a bandaged arm up to wipe at his nose but it's obvious to see how much pain just that action causes. Isabelle hurries to rip out tissues from the box and help him wipe away the tears and clear his nose._

_“You-You don’t understand, It’s… it’s not fair.” He chokes out. Then, with shuddering gasp of air; “ok one day, not good the next, over and over. I finally felt somewhat ok… and, and, it’s not fair.” He near screams he’s in so much pain. The sobbing affects what he’s saying and he’s not even sure if Isabelle can hear him over the drool and mumbling and hurt._

_"It takes time to bury the pain, but one day you'll get there, what you're feeling is the exact response after-"_

_"No shit sherlock," Zayn spits, Isabelle can see how much he's hurting though, and that this is his defence. She smiles although it comes out more a grimace. "What else do you feel?"_

_He's silent, not wanting to talk. He turns his face in the pillow and takes deep shuddery breaths to help with the pain in his chest and his head and his body and he wishes it didn't feel so good. Isabelle brandishes the board in front of him so he yields, hating himself for crying so much, how weak and pathetic he is. He writes it down; weak, pathetic, a failure, about to snap._

_After that he refuses to talk anymore._

_"I'm sorry you feel so awful Zayn, but I'm glad you're still here, and I guarantee that the boys and your family are."_

_He freezes at the mention of his family, thinking about his sisters... He can't picture what may have happened when they found out but it causes him to breakdown into ugly sobs that are probably hear throughout the entire house and Isabelle has to sit next to him on the bed and pat his back so he doesn't choke._

_"I have an idea." Isabelle tells him, "and when I come over next I think we should do it, I'll tell you what I have planned when you're ready, but until then - please don't shut out the boys, they love you and they'd miss you, they don't want you to leave, they want to help you. What you are feeling now is normal as you already know, and with time it'll pass. Be honest with yourself, and be gentle with yourself. When you can accept what has happened and move on you will find peace with everything."_

_Zayn chokes out another sob. "'M just so mad at myself." He admits painfully._

_"If you had cancer, would you be mad at yourself for having cancer?" Isabelle asks quietly, he looks up at her, furrowing his brows. His swollenred-rimmed eyes meeting her ones._

_"No?" It comes out more a question than a statement inadvertently._

_"Then why are you mad at yourself for feeling like this? Be gentle with yourself, give yourself time."_

 

\--

 

**N I A L L**

 

They could hear Zayns sobbing from the living room downstairs. Liam had to get up and leave the room, in fact - he left the house, walked out to the driveway so he could breath in the fresh air and avoid the sounds of his everything breakdown again for the umpteenth time that week. Poor Louis, he thinks. As they could not leave Zayn alone at least one of them had to be outside the room at all times. Just down the hallway so that they were far enough to miss the conversation but close enough to know when the session was over and go in to see Zayn and help him any way they could.

He wonders up the stairs to go join Louis, knowing he might need some help with what's going on and finds that Isabelle is just leaving. Louis gets up and goes into Liam room and he's left with Isabelle in the hallway.

"I was jus' wondering if you could spare me a few minutes, I can pay for a session and all, I just need to talk about something."

Isabelle gestures to Zayns room across the landing and they walk in.

"I take it this is about what happened last night."

Niall nods, crying already and he hasn't even gotten to the point. "I feel so guilty and I don' eve'n know why." He wipes at his eyes as they stand across from each other. "Like, if we'd been watchin' closer or jus' payin' more attention I could've don' someth'ng." He stares at here blank point.

"Those are completely normal reactions," she tells him, "and with time they will go away. It's unhelpful to be angry, critical, dramatic or lecture Zayn now, which is something you might have wanted to do, what is helpful and will ultimately be good for you is to tell him you're happy he's here, that you want to support him in any way you can. Only you can rid of your guilt and if you need to talk more about it this is my number." She hands him a card. "But I've seen you and the other boys interact around Zayn, what you do already is fantastic, and if you keep that up I don't see why Zayn won't recover from this along with al you boys, yes, this week is going to be hard, but it will pass and you need to be strong for each other - talk to the boys if you need help but remember they aren't councillors - I'm sure I can find time for you sometime if you're not ok."

He knows this won't be sufficient, that he might need to talk to someone, maybe her again in the future after this. "I need to ask someth'n else if ye don't mind." He asks.

"Go on."

"Like, I keep thinking' that - Look, I hate that Zayn has no confidence and all, I hate that he doesnt argue back about this because he's too shy but I'm also kind of grateful because it means he eats, is that weird or wrong at all?" He tries not to sound panicked or overwhelmed.

Isabelle just smiles at him, "It's perfectly normal, Niall, you're looking out for your friend in a time of suffering, your just looking after him, thats all."

Its like a weight has levitated off his shoulders and he feels so good its not even funny, he might even cry a little because he thought he was being the worst friend in the world.

She smiles at him kindly and Niall wonders how many times she's had to do this. He sniffs, nodding and pulling her in for a hug. "Than'k you f'r everyth'ng." He tells her, she smiles again.

"Not a problem." She smiles again, "now, go get some rest, you cannot care for someone else if ou haven't yourself, you need to take care of yourself too, shoo." He laughs at that and leaves the room first, seeing her out and then taking up residence on the couch, sinking into the cushions and resting his eyes. Before any of them know it he's out. 

 

\------

\------

 

It's four days later and Zayn snaps again.

He can stand up now, but not for long periods of time and move about a little, his heart rate returning to a healthier (for him) beat and Mark gave him to ok to get up (but not to push it). Thats how they find themselves downstairs (Liam swears, getting Zayn downstairs, even with the help of Harry was as nerve-wracking as when Zayn couldn't move after being in the hospital). They sit at the dinner table and so far Zayns been completely unresponsive to any of them. Niall and Louis went out to do the shopping (they went out to get clothes from their houses a few days prior) so its only him, Zayn and Harry in the house. Harry is absent from the room, Liam thinks he's gone to the bathroom or something when it happens.

Zayn fisted a hand in his hair. " _Why do you even put up with me?_ " He screamed.

Liam just stood there, mouth agape in shock because this is such a change in character and completely out of context. But Isabelle warned them this could happen and he takes it in his stride.

"What the hell are we doing here Liam? Why haven’t you kicked me out yet? Why aren’t you just caving in when I do things wrong and showing me how to be better? Why are you buying me all this stuff when I don’t deserve it?" Zayns hyperventilating. "W-W-What do u want with me? Because if it's to fuck please just do it already and st-stop messing with me!" He breaks out into angry sobs and curls into himself on the chair – doubled over in strangled cries that must pull at the stitches and hit him more.

Liam tries to make his way over.

"No! please – please don’t touch me! Jus-"

"Zayn, babe, you're having a breakdown and if you move much more you'll pull out your stitches. I need you to know it's ok, everything's fine and you're going to be ok – you're good, you're such a good boy Zayn, you're so good." He approaches the bed again but doesn't touch him. "We;re here because we love you, because youre our best friend no matter what you think, we've always been her and we always will, thats what we're doing, you're hurting and we want to help you, nothing more. We won't fuck you or touch you without permission, please, please believe me Zayn!"

Zayn sags from where he is and cries and cries, rocking himself back and forth on the stool.

"I'm not even here looking pretty!" He gasps. "I'm just an inconvenience! A liability – tell me, what have I done since I've been here? What have I done that’s remotely helpful?" He stares at Liam, challenging him directly, hair poking out in every direction and face wet with a combination of tears, sweat and snot..

"You're beautiful even when you're crying." Liam didn't mean that to come out of his mouth, but it does anyway and Zayn just gapes at him. "I mean," he stumbles to amend himself. "I can't imagine life without you, you've been my best friend ever since I can remember, and I want to see you smile because your smile is so beautiful it could make flowers grow it's so amazing." He pauses, gaging Zayns reaction. "You mean everything to me Zayn, and I can't stand you hating the person that I-we love. You're not an inconvenience, youre not a liability, youre our best friend, youre our fifth member, youre the boy who stood up for me back in primary and youre our Zayn, thats what." He kneels before Zayn, close to but not touching him. 

Zayn doesn't stop crying but he does sit there agape, shaking his head in disagreement. 

"I called Harriet." Liam bites the bullet.

Zayn keeps staring at him and Liam's not sure whether it's hate or betrayal in his eyes.

"She's organising as we speak for the blog to be removed and tracing the IP addresses of the images so that they can find out whoever else has access. We'll destroy them all."

Throughout his one sentence Zayn face changes from what it was to confusion to another expression Liam doesnt know, it's like a combination of relief and misery. Zayn sniffs and Liam rips a few tissues out the box before he leans forward to catch Zayn, who falls into his shoulder.

Zayn hiccups. "M' sorry, I-I jus'-"

"-Ssshhhhh." Liam hushes his apology. "You have nothing to apologise for, it's over."

Zayn continues to cry into his shoulder. He pushes his hands up from where they were in his lap to cover his eyes. "I just hurt so much Liam, it's just hurt." He sobs.

Liam hushes him softly. "Thats ok, thats ok,"

 

\------

\------

 

As it turns out the idea Isabelle had for him was a suicide plan.

In other words, they had a brief talk over everything again, including his breakdown the day before and sat down, side by side, Zayn was moved to the desk in the room with the help of Harry and Liam, and, _together,_  went through an action plan to put in place if he was triggered by anything or considering suicide again.

They slowly ran through events that day, Zayn writing out what had happened in a linear form and then together they charted a way so Zayn could manoeuvre himself from that thought line.

"I didn't even think, I-I didn't mean too." He admits miserably, hiding his face in his hands. 

Isabelle hooks her arms around his shoulders. "I know, and thats why were here, so you don't have to do the thinking, you just have to read and act accordingly." She smiles at him and he wipes his face on his sleeve before putting pen to paper again and continuing on with the action plan they have set in place.

It had not escaped Zayns attention that all locks had been removed in the house save for the front and back door, and that Liam was coincidentally getting sliding doors installed to replace the bathroom doors. He didn't care much though, this was Liams house after all and, while Isabelle tells him he shouldn't think like that, because he lives here too, he cannot help but constantly think he is always the one to blame and doesnt deserve the time of the day from any of them.

"Can I-" Zayn begins to ask but stops himself. Theres a moment of silence/

"Can you?" Isabelle pushes. Zayn sighs.

"Some of the pictures, I can't get them out of my head." He admits, so quiet he almost does their him, if Isabelle wasn't so attuned to him he'd think that she wouldn't have heard it.

"Which ones?" She shuffles closer, like he's about to reveal his deepest darkest secrets.

"I-Jus-all of them." Its painful to say, "but- I-It's just," Zayn furrows his brow in what to say and because he stuttered Isabelle produces the whiteboard but he shakes his head, he doesnt need it. "I keep seeing myself as this huge, fat being, right." He clears his throat, "but in the pictures I'm the exact opposite."

Isabelle stays silent and he realises she doesnt think he's done, he's not quite but he doesnt want to say more.

"How does that make you feel?" She asks quietly.

He shrugs, "I dont know." He almost feels proud of what was in there, but also a little scared because he looks like skin and bone.

He feels fragile. He concludes. Feels as delicate as glass that has been tapped too many times and is about to crack and shatter. Like anything from here on out could be the straw that breaks the camels back. He feels like he's a piece of rope stretched too far and the fibre so far have been snapping one by one and he's on the last string.

But he's here, he's alive despite his intentions, and as he writes the action plan out with Isabelle he truly thinks if this is going to work, he has got to give it all he's got.

 

-

 

Later on that day, he sits on the sofa and has a good cry. Not the racking sobs he's been suffering thus far, just a good cry at everything, gushing out the pain he feels through his tear ducts. He feels back, like everything just... bleak, like everything thats happened this week is completely surreal and... blank. He can't come up with another word for it. Liam sits by him, rubbing his shoulders and Zayn tucks himself into Liams side.

" _Finally,"_ Liam breathes, although he doesnt know why. "There you go," He encourages. "Don't hold it in just let it go, darling, let it all out."

He feels empty and so  _so_ fragile. So delicate and Liam handles him like he's made of glass and now he thinks about it maybe he is. He lets himself cry, purge his sadness and admits, "I just feel empty Liam, like I keep trying and it fails anyway, I feel so weak and fragile and I cat stand it." He bites off the 'anymore' that would have concluded that sentence, but it isn't required this time. Liam just hushes him and reminds him how its ok, that everything will work out in the end and if it doesnt work out its not the end yet. Zayn thinks, belatedly, that he may not be ok right now, but if he goes for it again, strives for what they- _he_ was working for before last week then he may just get there one day.

 

\------

\------

 

  
Liam wakes up the next morning to an empty bed for the first time in months. Immediate panic as to where Zayn is settles into the very marrow of his bones and the gravity of the  _need_ to know where Zayn is and if he's ok dawns on him. He springs out of bed and checks first and foremost in the bathroom next door. He takes a moment to breathe, let it settle in his lungs and exhale steadily. After all, Zayn could just be with the boys somewhere, either with Harry and Louis in his room (they swapped over when Zayn was mobile enough) or Niall downstairs.

“Zayn?” He asks as he pushes the door open to where Harry and Louis have spent the night, they stir from where they are, dozing in bed, Harry spooning Louis and no, Zayn doesnt appear to be in here."  
“Li?”

“Guys, is Zayn in here?”

Its uncanny how synchronised they are as they sit up from where they had been laying. “No, why?” Harry says, voice treading carefully.

“He wasn't with me when I got up.”

They rip the covers off them and without a word the three set off to search around the house and to see if he was with Niall. A clatter sounds from downstairs.

They search the top floor in record time (it's not hard to, literally one room and the landing) they run downstairs and find Niall with sleep-dusted eyes staring into the kitchen. Looking mildly confused.

(It should be noted that Niall's brain doesnt always engage properly before 9am.)

The sight before them, however, knock them over anyway, and not in a bad way.

Harry is the first to say anything. “Zee what is this?” It’s not a bad question, everyone here is a little confused, yet rather delighted. Especially Liam who’s initial thought was that they really were back to square one and he’d be making sure Zayn wasn’t working himself to the bone or having issues with eating and self-harm again. Now, however, seeing 5 plates placed out on the kitchen counter, and 5 mugs rather than 4. He has hope.

Zayn looks sheepish and slightly startled when Harry asks him that, taking a deep breath before starting off.  
“I,” He starts off, biting his lip. “I figured if I was going to give this whole living thing a go I would need to give it everything.” He says gently, while scraping the scrambled eggs he’s made onto the plates.

“Not that I wasn't before… before last week but I mean really try. I know I haven't been that great with sharing things and Isabelle has mentioned letting you guys in more would help, and if you want to know anything or if you're ok with me sharing then I want to try tell you some things that happened. Not at once, I'm not ready for that I don’t think because theres some stuff he did and mistakes I made that I can't face right known I dont even want to try for it because I will breakdown and I've kind of had enough of that this week." He attempts a lighthearted joke. "But last week I realised a lot, first of all that you guys have seen me at my lowest and you're still here by choice, and that’s got to mean something.” He sets down the pan while they all stand there in shock.

"I don't like myself, in fact more often than not I hate myself, but you guys tell me I should like myself and then I think I'm fat but you all tell me I'm not and you're constantly looking after me and my heads all funny and I'm confused a lot because what I see is the opposite to you guys but my opinion seems the unpopular one and i just want to feel ok and right again, ya know? Like I want to be able to think clearly without some side effect. I want to be like before all this, I want to be happy and - I feel so awkward saying this but Isabelle tells me a lot that I deserve happiness and I'm not sure if i do or not but I'm happy when I'm around you guys and it feels selfish but I like it so much and I feel safe."

He stops fiddling with the kitchen utensils immediately, stopping himself again because he was rambling and going off on a tangent.

“Like, I'm still not happy,” ~ It’s so hard to admit that. ~ “I hate myself sometimes but other times things are ok and I apologise for what happened last week - No, don't interrupt me Liam, please,” Liam clamps his mouth shut and Zayn sighs, thinking through what he’s about to say.

“Some of those pictures must have spiked a lot of questions for you and one day I'll be able to tell you about them if you still want.” He trails off a bit when he realises he’s repeating himself. “So, what I'm saying is that I, I really am in it for the long run now and,” He sighs again, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes to hide when he continues. His voice slowly breaking. “I feel so awkward and needy and bitchy and dependant saying this but I need you. I need all of you and my parents and sisters and your families because you all mean so much to me and family means so much to you guys and that means a lot to me too. I know I'm not really thinking right right now, actually, with the whole body image thing I-" he cuts off, thinking about what he says and the boys are too hooked to stop him, "those photos gave me a bit of a reality check because I dont see myself the way I look in those photos - in fact i see the exact opposite and that terrifies me." He swallows past the jagged edges of his throat. "But anyway as I said I'm not really thinking or seeing myself quite right I dont think and that I need your influence to get me through all of this.” He finally looks up again and wipes both his eyes and nose with his hands. Trying to hold it together with his next sentences. “Because I still look in the mirror and some days I feel so disgusted and I can feel all this weight on me, and because of last week it's so much worse. I still look at myself and just have this, this need this… this undying want to rip off my skin, burn it, somehow rearrange the features in the hopes everything will turn out better than what it is now.” He hides face in hands again, crying a bit and muffling the next sentences. “I shouldn't crave slicing my skin, or becoming skeletal even if I don't see it. I,” ~ sniff ~ “I shouldn’t, I shouldn't want to kill myself especially because of someone like Nathan who I now see was severely unhealthy to have in my life and …” He breaks again, sighing as he drags his fingers down his face but doesn’t make eye contact with any of them for a while, like he’s contemplating something.

 

He glances at each of them, making temporary eye contact before staring at the breakfast he’s made for all of them.

“When I was hiding blades I hid one in the one in my bedside table, one under the drawers in the bathroom which is the one that I used last week, another on tucked away in the bookshelf in the guest room and under the box in one of the drawers in the medicine cabinet. I used to purge in the shower before bed because at least I could get half out and I'd cut any other time I was alone either in the shower or when it was late night/early morning and you were asleep in your room. There are times when I need to be alone and others when I need people around and times where I want to be alone but need people. Another thing is that before you slept in the same room as me, Liam, I used to do crunches and push ups and other things until I collapsed because I couldn't stand the idea of having food."

It’s not quite said all in one breath, but by the end it’s said quick enough for it to seem like it. He doesn’t look up, instead screws his eyes up and clenches his fists.

One.

Two.

Three.

 _Sniff_. He turns his gaze to them and see’s Liam crying. HIs face goes from sad and anxious to panicky and scared.

Liam sniffs, shaking his head and holding his arms open before walking to him. Engulfing him in a hug to parallel all others. His arms and body swallow him.

“I’m so proud of you.” He hears Liam whisper, “And thank you, thank you so much.”

“What for?” Zayn finally reciprocates the hug and wraps his arms too around Liam’s waist. Crying now with all of them.

“Just, thank you so much,” A hand moves to tangle in his hair before it was Liams time to confess. “I always hoped you'd tell me this when you were ready and you just have and that means so much Zayn.” Liam sniffs some more. “But it’s not just that, you’re finally accepting that you can’t do this alone and the you’ll need some help and that you want it, so just… yeah.”

Liam sniffs while Zayn chuckles internally, How eloquent.

“I’m just, like, so proud of you.” ~ Sniff ~ “Like, my chest isn't expanding right because I'm so proud and so happy. Well done Zayn, just… Well done.”

More arms wrap around him and before he knows he’s in the middle of this group hug; crying silently with all of them, and not because he’s sad, because these are happy tears. He feels so safe and warm with these boys here. Finally like things might be ok someday and that the page he’s been stuck on for so long is finally going to be turned over. That the cold, sad, dark place he’s so used to living in now may just become lighter and happier and warmer.

“Thank you for getting me here.” He whispers back, “All of you.” Pressing his ear into Liams chest and hearing the solid thump thump.

“You know what this means though, don't you?” Liam pipes up again.

“What?”

“It means you’re going to make it.”

 

  
———

 

_"There comes a day when you realise turning the page is the best feeling in the world, because you realise there is so much more to the book than the page you were stuck on."_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I start school in two days and it's my final year, i thought it was a bit cruel to leave you like I did so I hope this chapter is a bit of a beacon and summary that things will be ok. I want to thank you all for your incredible support and to let you know i will be writing as much as i can (this fic is far from over i promise!) but my studies and sport comes first. Please comment as they really spurs me on and encourages me and make my day, I read every single one even if i haven't replied as of yet. Have a great year and stay safe, lots of love, Zee.


	23. The End of the Beginning NOT AN UPDATE!!

HI guys this isn't an update and i'm not ending the story so don't panic aha!

Just writing to let you all know im trying to update a few chappies for this weekend/next week.

 

Nik (and bradfordswoody) mentioned in the previous chapters comments that i could end the book here and it will open up the doors for a sequel and so on. As a result I have decided (like three months later aha) that this novel will make up a three-part series and therefore this is end of the first part! (In the words of Zayn himself, "whoop whoop!")

 

I hope this isn't confusing to anyone, i just wanted to let you all know that this is continuing just not here.

 

Part one shall still be named as it is.

I NEED HELP NAMING THE NEXT PART SO COMMENT SUGGESTIONS BELOW PLEASE BC THE SOONER I HAVE ONE THE SOONER I CAN POST!! :) :) 

 

ALSO I NEED A NAME FOR THIS SERIES GUYS, AGAIN, SOONER I HAVE SUGGESTIONS SOONER I CAN POST!!

 

 

I'll remove this bit when i post the new section!

 

Have a wonderful day everybody! Remember to treat yourselves right!

 

Zee. 

 

 

Also, guys guys have u heard the new [mind of mine](http://www.mtv.com/news/2797002/zayn-complex-interview/) preview? (bottom of the page)

Also, if anyone wants a google drive link to his periscope let me know! I'll try hook you up!


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